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THE   DISENTANGLERS 


A    MONK    OF    FIFE  ; 

A  Story  of  the  Days  of  Joan  of  Arc. 

By   ANDREW   LANG. 

With  13  Illustrations. 

Crown  8yo,  3s.  M. 

THE    WORLD'S    DESIRE. 

By  H.  rider  haggard  and  ANDREW  LANG. 

With  27  Illustrations. 

Crown  Svo,  3s.  6d. 

PARSON    KELLY. 

By  a.  E.  W,  mason  and  ANDREW  LANG. 

With  Frontispiece. 

Crown  8yo,  3s.  6d. 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO., 

LONDON,  NEW  YORK  AND  BOMBAY. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/disentanglersOOIang 


'I  WANT  YOU  TO  DO  SOMETHING  FOR   ME,'   SAID   MISS  BLOSSOM. 


THE 
DISENTANGLERS 


ANDREW    LANG 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS   BY   H.    J.    FORD 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO. 

39    PATERNOSTER    ROW,   LONDON 

NEW  YORK  AND    BOMBAY 

1902 


Copyright,  igo/ 

By  Andrew  Lang 

Copyright,  igoi  and  igo2 

By  Longmans,   Green,  Sf  Co. 

All  rights  rti',rvtd 


TO 

HERBERT    HILES,  Esq. 
2r|)£0e  Stutiies 

OF  LIFE   AND   CHARACTER 
ARE  DEDICATED 


PREFACE 

TT  has  been  suggested  to  the  Author  that  the  iiici- 
■■-  dent  of  the  Berbalangs,  in  The  Adventure  of  the 
Fair  American,  is  rather  improbable.  He  can  only 
refer  the  sceptical  to  the  perfectly  genuine  authorities 
cited  in  his  footnotes. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter 

I.    The  Great  Idea 

II.    From  THE  Highways  and  Hedges 

III.  Adventure  of  the  First  Clients 

IV.  Adventure  of  the  Rich  Uncle   . 
V.    Adventure  of  the  Office  Screen 

VI.    A  Lover  in  Cocky 

VII.    Adventure  of  the  Exemplary  Earl 
I.    The  Earl's  Long-Lost  Cousin. 
II.    The  Affair  of  the  Jesuit. 
VIII.    Adventure  of  the  Lady  Patroness     .     .     . 
IX.    Adventure  of  the  Lady  Novelist  and  the 

Vaccinationist 

X.    Adventure  of  the  Fair  American  .     .    .    . 
I.  The  Prize  of  a  Lady's  Hand. 
II.  The  Adventure  of  the  Muddy  Pearls. 
XI.    Adventure  of  the  Miserly  Marquis  .     .     . 
I.  The  Marquis  consults  Gray  and  Graham. 
II.  The  Emu's  Feathers. 
III.  A  Romance  of  Bradshaw. 

IV.  Greek  meets  Greek. 

XII.    Adventure  of  the  Canadian  Heiress      .     . 
I.    At  Castle  Skrae. 
II.    Lost. 

III.  Logan  to  the  Rescue  ! 

IV.  Adventure  of  Eachain  of  the  Hairy  Arm. 

V.  Adventure  of  the  Flora  Macdonald. 


Page 
I 

17 
33 
48 
68 
85 


146 

165 
195 


24^ 


321 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


'  I  want  you  to  do  something  for  me,'    said  Miss 

Blossom Frontispiece 

Miss  Maskelyne  did  a  Trick Facing  page  23 

...  A  man  disappearing  into  a  Hansom    .     .  „         „       63 

The  Ladies  overhear  the  Curates      ....  „        „      80 

The  Earl  is  charmed  with  Miss  Willoughby    ,  „         „     119 

The  Death  of  the  Mylodon „         „     229 

'  Perhaps,  Dr.  Melville  ...    if  I  at  once  hold 

my  hands  up ' „        „     312 


THE   DISENTANGLERS 
I 

THE   GREAT   IDEA 

THE  scene  was  a  dusky  shabby  little  room  in 
Ryder  Street.  To  such  caves  many  repair 
whose  days  are  passed,  and  whose  food  is  consumed, 
in  the  clubs  of  the  adjacent  thoroughfare  of  co- 
operative palaces.  Pall  Mall.  The  furniture  was 
battered  and  dingy;  the  sofa  on  which  Logan 
sprawled  had  a  certain  historic  interest:  it  was 
covered  with  cloth  of  horsehair,  now  seldom  found 
by  the  amateur.  A  bookcase  with  glass  doors  held 
a  crowd  of  books  to  which  the  amateur  would  at 
once  have  flown.  They  were  in  *  boards  '  of  faded 
blue,  and  the  paper  labels  bore  alluring  names: 
they  were  all  First  Editions  of  the  most  desirable 
kind.  The  bottles  in  the  liqueur  case  were  an- 
tique; a  coat  of  arms,  not  undistinguished,  was  in 
relief  on  the  silver  stoppers.  But  the  liquors  in 
the  flasks  were  humble  and  conventional.  Merton, 
the  tenant  of  the  rooms,  was  in  a  Zingari  cricketing 
coat;  he  occupied  the  arm-chair,  while  Logan,  in 
evening   dress,    maintained   a   difficult    equilibrium 

I 


2  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

on  the  slippery  sofa.  Both  men  were  of  an  age 
between  twenty-five  and  twenty-nine,  both  were 
pleasant  to  the  eye.  Merton  was,  if  anything, 
under  the  middle  height:  fair,  slim,  and  active. 
As  a  freshman  he  had  coxed  his  College  Eight, 
later  he  rowed  Bow  in  that  vessel.  He  had  won 
the  Hurdles,  but  been  beaten  by  his  Cambridge 
opponent;  he  had  taken  a  fair  second  in  Greats, 
was  believed  to  have  been  '  runner  up '  for  the 
Newdigate  prize  poem,  and  might  have  won  other 
laurels,  but  that  he  was  found  to  do  the  female 
parts  very  fairly  in  the  dramatic  performances  of 
the  University,  a  thing  irreconcilable  with  study. 
His  father  was  a  rural  dean.  Merton's  most  obvious 
vice  was  a  thirst  for  general  information.  *  I  know 
it  is  awfully  bad  form  to  know  anything,'  he  had 
been  heard  to  say,  '  but  everyone  has  his  failings, 
and  mine  is  occasionally  useful.' 

Logan  was  tall,  dark,  athletic  and  indolent.  He 
was,  in  a  way,  the  last  of  an  historic  Scottish 
family,  and  rather  fond  of  discoursing  on  the  ances- 
tral traditions.  But  any  satisfaction  that  he  de- 
rived from  them  was,  so  far,  all  that  his  birth  had 
won  for  him.  His  little  patrimony  had  taken  to 
itself  wings.  Merton  was  in  no  better  case.  Both, 
as  they  sat  together,  were  gloomily  discussing  their 
prospects. 

In  the  penumbra  of  smoke,  and  the  malignant 
light  of  an  ill  trimmed  lamp,  the  Great  Idea  was  to 
be  evolved.  What  consequences  hung  on  the  Great 
Idea!  The  peace  of  families  insured,  at  a  trifling 
premium.     Innocence  rescued.     The  defeat  of   the 


THE   GREAT   IDEA  3 

subtlest  criminal  designers:  undreamed  of  benefits 
to  natural  science !  But  I  anticipate.  We  return 
to  the  conversation  in  the  Ryder  Street  den. 

'It  is  a  case  of  emigration  or  the  workhouse,' 
said  Logan. 

'  Emigration !  What  can  you  or  I  do  in  the  Colo- 
nies? They  provide  even  their  own  ushers.  My 
only  available  assets,  a  little  Greek  and  less  Latin, 
are  drugs  in  the  Melbourne  market,'  answered  Mer- 
ton;  '  they  breed  their  own  dominies.     Protection  ! ' 

'  In  America  they  might  pay  for  lessons  in  the 
English  accent  .   .   .'  said  Logan. 

'But  not,'  said  Merton,  'in  the  Scotch,  which 
is  yours;  oh  distant  cousin  of  a  marquis!  Conse- 
quently by  rich  American  lady  pupils  "you  are  not 
one  to  be  desired."  ' 

'Tommy,  you  are  impertinent,'  said  Logan. 
'  Oh,  hang  it,  where  is  there  an  opening,  a  demand, 
for  the  broken,  the  stoney  broke?  A  man  cannot 
live  by  casual  paragraphs  alone. ' 

'  And  these  generally  reckoned  "  too  high-toned 
for  our  readers,"  '  said  Merton. 

'  If  I  could  get  the  secretaryship  of  a  golf  club  !  ' 
Logan  sighed. 

'  If  you  could  get  the  Chancellorship  of  the 
Exchequer!  I  reckon  that  there  are  two  million 
applicants  for  secretaryships  of  golf  clubs.' 

'  Or  a  land  agency,'  Logan  murmured. 

'  Oh,  be  practical !  '  cried  Merton.  '  Be  inven- 
tive !  Be  modern !  Be  up  to  date !  Think  of 
something  new !  Think  of  a  felt  want,  as  the 
Covenanting   divine    calls    it :     a    real    public    need, 


4  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

hitherto  but  dimly  present,  and  quite  a  demand 
without  a  supply. ' 

'But  that  means  thousands  in  advertisements,' 
said  Logan,  *  even  if  we  ran  a  hair-restorer.  The 
ground  bait  is  too  expensive.  I  say,  I  once  knew 
a  fellow  who  ground-baited  for  salmon  with  potted 
shrimps.' 

'  Make  a  paragraph  on  him  then,'  said  Merton. 

'  But  results  proved  that  there  was  no  felt  want 
of  potted  shrimps  —  or  not  of  a  fly  to  follow.' 

'  Your  collaboration  in  the  search,  the  hunt  for 
money,  the  quest,  consists  merely  in  irrelevan- 
cies  and  objections,'  growled  Merton,  lighting  a 
cigarette. 

'  Lucky  devil,  Peter  Nevison.  Meets  an  heiress 
on  a  Channel  boat,  with  4,000/.  a  year;  and  there 
he  is. '     Logan  basked  in  the  reflected  sunshine. 

'  Cut  by  her  people,  though  —  and  other  people. 
I  could  not  have  faced  the  row  with  her  people,' 
said  Merton  musingly. 

'  I  don't  wonder  they  moved  heaven  and  earth, 
and  her  uncle,  the  bishop,  to  stop  it.  Not  eligible, 
Peter  was  not,  however  you  took  him,'  Logan  re- 
flected. '  Took  too  much  of  this,'  he  pointed  to  the 
heraldic  flask. 

*  Well,  she  took  him.  It  is  not  much  that 
parents,  still  less  guardians,  can  do  now,  when  a 
girl's  mind  is  made  up.' 

'  The  emancipation  of  woman  is  the  opportunity 
of  the  indigent  male  struggler.  Women  have  their 
way,'  Logan  reflected. 

'  And  the  youth  of  the  modern  aged  is  the  oppor- 


THE  GREAT   IDEA  5 

tunity  of  our  sisters,  the  girls  "on  the  make,"  '  said 
Merton.  '  What  a  lot  of  old  men  of  title  are  marry- 
ing young  women  as  hard  up  as  we  are !  ' 

'And  then,'  said  Logan,  'the  offspring  of  the 
deceased  marchionesses  make  a  fuss.  In  fact  mar- 
riage is  always  the  signal  for  a  family  row,' 

'  It  is  the  infernal  family  row  that  I  never  could 
face.     I  had  a  chance ' 

Merton  seemed  likely  to  drop  into  autobiography. 

'  I  know,'  said  Logan  admonishingly. 

'Well,  hanged  if  I  could  take  it,  and  she  —  she 
could  not  stand  it  either,  and  both  of  us ' 

'  Do  not  be  elegiac, '  interrupted  Logan.  '  I 
know.  Still,  I  am  rather  sorry  for  people's  people. 
The  unruly  affections  simply  poison  the  lives  of 
parents  and  guardians,  aye,  and  of  the  children  too. 
The  aged  are  now  so  hasty  and  imprudent.  What 
would  not  Tala  have  given  to  prevent  his  Grace 
from  marrying  Mrs.   Tankerville.-' ' 

Merton  leapt  to  his  feet  and  smote  his  brow. 

'Wait,  don't  speak  to  me  —  a  great  thought 
flushes  all  my  brain.  Hush!  I  have  it,'  and  he 
sat  down  again,  pouring  seltzer  water  into  a  half 
empty  glass. 

'  Have  what  ?  '  asked  Logan. 

'  The  Felt  Want.     But  the  accomplices?  ' 

'  But  the  advertisements!  '  suggested  Logan. 

*  A  few  pounds  will  cover  t/iem.  I  can  sell  my 
books,'   Merton  sighed. 

'  A  lot  of  advertising  your  first  editions  will  pay 
for.     Why,  even  to  launch  a  hair-restorer  takes ' 

'  Oh,    but, '    Merton    broke    in,    *  i/iis   want  is   so 


6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

widely  felt,  acutely  felt  too :  hair  is  not  in  it. 
But  where  are  the  accomplices?  ' 

'  If  it  is  gentleman  burglars  I  am  not  concerned. 
No  Raffles  for  me !  If  it  is  venal  physicians  to  kill 
off  rich  relations,  the  lives  of  the  Logans  are  sacred 
to  me. ' 

'  Bosh!  '  said  Merton,  '  I  want  "lady  friends,"  as 
Tennyson  says:  nice  girls,  well  born,  well  bred, 
trying  to  support  themselves. ' 

'  What  do  you  want  them  for  ?    To  support  them  "i ' 

'  I  want  them  as  accomplices, '  said  Merton.  '  As 
collaborators.' 

'  Blackmail } '  asked  Logan.  '  Has  it  come  to 
this.''  I  draw  the  line  at  blackmail.  Besides,  they 
would  starve  first,  good  girls  would ;  or  marry  Lord 
Methusalem,  or  a  beastly  South  African  richard,' 

'  Robert  Logan  of  Restalrig,  that  should  be  '  — 
Merton  spoke  impressively  —  'you  know  me  to  be 
incapable  of  practices,  however  lucrative,  which 
involve  taint  of  crime.  I  do  not  prey  upon  the 
society  which  I  propose  to  benefit.  But  where  are 
the  girls.-*  ' 

'  Where  are  they  not }  '  Logan  asked.  '  Daw- 
dling, as  jesters,  from  country  house  to  country 
house.  In  the  British  Museum,  verifying  refer- 
ences for  literary  gents,  if  they  can  get  references 
to  verify.  Asking  leave  to  describe  their  friends' 
parties  in  T/ie  Leidy's  News.  Trying  for  places 
as  golfing  governesses,  or  bridge  governesses,  or 
gymnastic  mistresses  at  girls'  schools,  or  lady 
laundresses,  or  typewriters,  or  lady  teachers  of 
cookery,    or   pegs   to   hang   costumes   on   at   dress- 


THE   GREAT   IDEA  7 

makers'.  The  most  beautiful  girl  I  ever  saw  was 
doing  that  once;  I  met  her  when  I  was  shopping 
with  my  aunt  who  left  her  money  to  the  Armenians. ' 

'You  kept  up  her  acquaintance?  The  girl's,  I 
mean,'  Merton  asked. 

'  We  have  occasionally  met.     In  fact ' 

*  Yes,  I  know,  as  you  said  lately, '  Merton  re- 
marked, '  That's  one,  anyhow,  and  there  is  Mary 
Willoughby,  who  got  a  second  in  history  when  I 
was  up.  She  would  do.  Better  business  for  her 
than  the  British  Museum.     I  know  three  or  four.' 

'I  know  five  or  six.  But  what  for.?'  Logan 
insisted. 

'  To  help  us  in  supplying  the  widely  felt  want, 
which  is  my  discovery,'  said  Merton. 

'  And  that  is >  ' 

*  Disentanglers  —  of  both  sexes.  A  large  and 
varied  staff,  calculated  to  meet  every  requirement 
and  cope  with  every  circumstance, '  Merton  quoted 
an  unwritten  prospectus. 

'  I  don't  follow.  What  the  deuce  is  your  felt 
want } ' 

'  What  we  were  talking  about. ' 

'  Ground  bait  for  salmon  ? '  Logan  reverted  to  his 
idea. 

'  No.  Family  rows  about  marriages.  Nasty  let- 
ters. Refusals  to  recognise  the  choice  of  a  son, 
a  daughter,  or  a  widowed  but  youthful  old  parent, 
among  the  upper  classes.  Harsh  words.  Refu- 
sals to  allow  meetings  or  correspondence.  Broken 
hearts.  Improvident  marriages.  Preaching  down 
a  daughter's  heart,  or  an  aged  parent's  heart,  or  a 


8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

nephew's,  or  a  niece's,  or  a  ward's,  or  anybody's 
heart.  Peace  restored  to  the  household.  Intended 
marriage  off,  and  nobody  a  penny  the  worse, 
unless ' 

*  Unless  what.-* '  said  Logan. 

'Practical  difficulties,'  said  Merton,  'will  occur 
in  every  enterprise.  But  they  won't  be  to  our  dis- 
advantage, the  reverse  —  if  they  don't  happen  too 
often.  And  we  can  guard  against  that  by  a  scien- 
tific process. ' 

'  Now  will  you  explain,'  Logan  asked,  '  or  shall  I 
pour  this  whisky  and  water  down  the  back  of  your 
neck?  ' 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  menace  in  his  eye. 

'  Bear  fighting  barred !  We  are  no  longer  boys. 
We  are  men  —  broken  men.  Sit  down,  don't  play 
the  bear,'  said  Merton. 

'  Well,  explain,  or  I  fire! ' 

'  Don't  you  see.-'  The  problem  for  the  family,  for 
hundreds  of  families,  is  to  get  the  undesirable  mar- 
riage off  without  the  usual  row.  Very  few  people 
really  like  a  row.  Daughter  becomes  anaemic; 
foreign  cures  are  expensive  and  no  good.  Son  goes 
to  the  Devil  or  the  Cape.  Aged  and  opulent,  but 
amorous,  parent  leaves  everything  he  can  scrape 
together  to  disapproved  of  new  wife.  Relations 
cut  each  other  all  round.  Not  many  people  really 
enjoy  that  kind  of  thing.  They  want  a  pacific 
solution  —  marriage  off,  no  remonstrances.' 

'  And  how  are  you  going  to  do  it  t ' 

'Why,'  said  Merton,  'by  a  scientific  and  thor- 
oughly organised  system  of   disengaging  or  disen- 


THE  GREAT  IDEA  9 

tangling.  We  enlist  a  lot  of  girls  and  fellows  like 
ourselves,  beautiful,  attractive,  young,  or  not  so 
young,  well  connected,  intellectual,  athletic,  and  of 
all  sorts  of  types,  but  all  broke,  all  without  visible 
means  of  subsistence.  They  are  people  welcome 
in  country  houses,  but  travelling  third  class,  and 
devilishly  perplexed  about  how  to  tip  the  servants, 
how  to  pay  if  they  lose  at  bridge,  and  so  forth. 
We  enlist  them,  we  send  them  out  on  demand,  care- 
fully selecting  our  agents  to  meet  the  circumstances 
in  each  case.  They  go  down  and  disentangle  the 
amorous  by — -well,  by  entangling  them.  The 
lovers  are  off  with  the  old  love,  the  love  which 
causes  all  the  worry,  without  being  on  with  the  new 
love  —  our  agent.      The  thing  quietly  fizzles  out.' 

'Quietly!'  Logan  snorted.  'I  like  "quietly." 
They  would  be  on  with  the  new  love.  Don't  you 
see,  you  born  gomeral,  that  the  person,  man  or 
woman,  who  deserts  the  inconvenient  A.  —  I  put  an 
A.  B.  case  —  falls  in  love  with  your  agent  B. ,  and 
your  B.  is,  by  the  nature  of  the  thing,  more  ineli- 
gible than  A.  — too  poor.  A  babe  could  see  that. 
You  disappoint  me,  Merton. ' 

'You  state,'  said  Merton,  'one  of  the  practical 
difficulties  which  I  foresaw.  Not  that  it  does  not 
suit  lis  very  well.  Our  comrade  and  friend,  man 
or  woman,  gets  a  chance  of  a  good  marriage,  and, 
Logan,  there  is  no  better  thing.  But  parents  and 
guardians  would  not  stand  much  of  that :  of  people 
marrying  our  agents. ' 

'  Of  course  they  would  n't.     Your  idea  is  crazy.' 

'  Wait  a  moment, '  said  Merton.      'The  resources 


io  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

of  science  are  not  yet  exhausted.  You  have  heard 
of  the  epoch-making  discovery  of  Jenner,  and  its 
beneficent  results  in  checking  the  ravages  of  small- 
pox, that  scourge  of  the  human  race?  ' 

*  Oh  don't  talk  like  a  printed  book,'  Logan  remon- 
strated.    *  Everybody  has  heard  of  vaccination.' 

'  And  you  are  aware  that  similar  prophylactic 
measures  have  been  adopted,  with  more  or  less  of 
success,  in  the  case  of  other  diseases  ?  ' 

'  I  am  aware,'  said  Logan,  '  that  you  are  in  danger 
of  personal  suffering  at  my  hands,  as  I  already  warned 
you.' 

'What  is  love  but  a  disease?'  Merton  asked 
dreamily.  '  A  French  savant,  Monsieur  Janet,  says 
that  nobody  ever  falls  in  love  except  when  he  is  a 
little  bit  off  colour:  I  forget  the  French  equivalent.' 

'  I  am  coming  for  you,'  Logan  arose  in  wrath. 

'  Sit  down.  Well,  your  objection  (which  it  did 
not  need  the  eyes  of  an  Argus  to  discover)  is  that 
the  patients,  the  lovers  young,  whose  loves  are  dis- 
approved of  by  the  family,  will  fall  in  love  with  our 
agents,  insist  on  marrying  them,  and  so  the  last 
state  of  these  afflicted  parents  —  or  children  —  will 
be  worse  than  the  first.     Is  that  your  objection?' 

'  Of  course  it  is ;  and  crushing  at  that,'  Logan 
replied. 

'Then  science  suggests  prophylactic  measures: 
something  akin  to  vaccination,'  Merton  explained. 
'  The  agents  must  be  warranted  "  immune."  Nice 
new  word  !  ' 

'  How?' 

'  The  object,'    Merton   answered,    '  is   to    make    it 


THE   GREAT   IDEA  ii 

impossible,  or  highly  improbable,  that  our  agents, 
after  disentangling  the  affections  of  the  patients,  cur- 
ing them  of  one  attack,  will  accept  their  addresses, 
offered  in  a  second  fit  of  the  fever.  In  brief,  the 
agents  must  not  marry  the  patients,  or  not  often.' 

'  But  how  can  you  prevent  them  if  they  want  to 
do  it?' 

'  By  a  process  akin,  in  the  emotional  region  of  our 
strangely  blended  nature,  to  inoculation.' 

'  Hanged  if  I  understand  you.  You  keep  on  re- 
peating yourself.     You  dodder  !  ' 

'  Our  agents  must  have  got  the  disease  already,  the 
pretty  fever;  and  be  safe  against  infection.  There 
must  be  on  the  side  of  the  agent  a  prior  attachment. 
Now,  don't  interrupt,  there  always  is  a  prior  attach- 
ment. You  are  in  love,  I  am  in  love,  he,  she,  and 
they,  all  of  the  broken  brigade,  are  in  love ;  ail  the 
more  because  they  have  not  a  chance.  "  Cursed  be 
the  social  wants  that  sin  against  the  strength  of 
youth."  So,  you  see,  our  agents  will  be  quite  safe 
not  to  crown  the  flame  of  the  patients,  not  to  accept 
them,  if  they  do  propose,  or  expect  a  proposal. 
"  Every  security  from  infection  guaranteed."  There 
is  the  felt  want.  Here  is  the  remedy ;  not  warranted 
absolutely  painless,  but  salutary,  and  tending  to  the 
amelioration  of  the  species.  So  we  have  only  to 
enlist  the  agents,  and  send  a  few  advertisements  to 
the  papers.  My  first  editions  must  go.  Farewell 
Shelley,  Tennyson,  Keats,  uncut  Waverleys,  Byron, 
The  Walts,  early  Kiplings  (at  a  vast  reduction  on 
account  of  the  overflooded  state  of  the  market). 
Farewell  Kilmarnock  edition  of  Burns,  and  Colonel 


i2  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

Lovelace,  his  Lucasta,  and  Tamerlane  by  Mr.  Poe, 
and  the  rest.  The  money  must  be  raised.'  Merton 
looked  resigned. 

'  I  have  nothing  to  sell,'  said  Logan,  '  but  an  entire 
set  of  clubs  by  Philp.  Guaranteed  unique,  and  in 
exquisite  condition.' 

'  You  must  part  with  them,'  said  Merton.  'We  are 
like  Palissy  the  potter,  feeding  his  furnace  with  the 
drawing-room  furniture.' 

'But  how  about  the  recruiting?'  Logan  asked. 
'  It 's  like  one  of  these  novels  where  you  begin  by 
collecting  desperados  from  all  quarters,  and  then  the 
shooting  commences.' 

'  Well,  we  need  not  ransack  the  Colonies,'  Merton 
replied.  '  Patronise  British  industries.  We  know 
some  fellows  already  and  some  young  women.' 

*  I  say,'  Logan  interrupted,  '  what  a  dab  at  dis- 
entangling Lumley  would  have  been  if  he  had  not 
got  that  Professorship  of  Toxicology  at  Edinburgh, 
and  been  able  to  marry  Miss  Wingan  at  last ! ' 

'  Yes,  and  Miss  Wingan  would  have  been  useful. 
What  a  lively  girl,  ready  for  everything,'  Merton 
replied. 

*  But  these  we  can  still  get  at,'  Logan  asked  :  '  how 
are  you  to  be  sure  that  they  are  —  vaccinated?  ' 

'  The  inquiry  is  delicate,'  Merton  admitted,  '  but 
the  fact  may  be  almost  taken  for  granted.  We  must 
give  a  dinner  (a  preliminary  expense)  to  promising 
collaborators,  and  champagne  is  a  great  promoter  of 
success  in  delicate  inquiries.     In  vino  Veritas' 

'  I  don't  know  if  there  is  money  in  it,  but  there  is  a 
kind  of  larkiness,'  Logan  admitted. 


THE   GREAT   IDEA  13 

*  Yes,  I  think  there  will  be  larks.' 

'About  the  dinner?  We  are  not  to  have  Johnnies 
disguised  as  hansom  cabbies  driving  about,  and  pick- 
ing up  men  and  women  that  look  the  right  sort,  in 
the  streets,  and  compelling  them  to  come  in?  ' 

'  Oh  no,  that  expense  we  can  cut.  It  would  not 
do  with  the  women,  obviously:  heavens,  what  queer 
fishes  that  net  would  catch !  The  flag  of  the  Disen- 
tanglers  shall  never  be  stained  by  —  anything.  You 
know  some  likely  agents :  I  know  some  likely  agents. 
They  will  suggest  others,  as  our  field  of  usefulness 
widens.  Of  course  there  is  the  oath  of  secrecy :  we 
shall  administer  that  after  dinner  to  each  guest 
apart.' 

'Jolly  difficult  for  those  that  are  mixed  up  with 
the  press  to  keep  an  oath  of  secrecy !  '  Logan  spoke 
as  a  press  man. 

'  We  shall  only  have  to  do  with  gentlemen  and 
ladies.  The  oath  is  not  going  to  sanction  itself  with 
religious  terrors.  Good  form — we  shall  appeal  to 
a  "  sense  of  form  "  —  now  so  widely  diffused  by 
University  Extension  Lectures  on  the  Beautiful,  the 
Fitting,  the ' 

'  Oh  shut  up  !  '  cried  Logan.  '  You  always  haver 
after  midnight.  For,  look  here,  here  is  an  objection ; 
this  precious  plan  of  yours,  parents  and  others  could 
work  it  for  themselves.  I  dare  say  they  do.  When 
they  see  the  aflfections  of  a  son,  or  a  daughter,  or  a 
bereaved  father  beginning  to  stray  towards  A.,  they 
probably  invite  B.  to  come  and  stay  and  act  as  a 
lightning  conductor.     They  don't  need  us.' 

'Oh,  don't  they?     They  seldom  have  an  eligible 


14  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

and  satisfactory  lightning  conductor  at  hand,  some- 
body to  whom  they  can  trust  their  dear  one.  Or,  if 
they  have,  the  dear  one  has  already  been  bored  with 
the  intended  lightning  conductor  (who  is  old,  or 
plain,  or  stupid,  or  familiar,  at  best),  and  they  won't 
look  at  him  or  her.  Now  our  Disentanglers  are  not 
going  to  be  plain,  or  dull,  or  old,  or  stale,  or  com- 
monplace —  we  '11  take  care  of  that.  My  dear  fellow, 
don't  you  know  how  dismal  the  parti  selected  for  a 
man  or  girl  invariably  is?  Now  we  provide  a  differ- 
ent and  superior  article,  a  fresh  article  too,  not  a 
familiar  bore   or  a  neighbour.' 

'Well,  there  is  a  good  deal  in  that,  as  you  say,' 
Logan  admitted.  *  But  decent  people  will  think  the 
whole  speculation  shady.  How  are  you  to  get  round 
that?     There  is  something  you  have  forgotten.' 

'What?  '  Merton  asked. 

'  Why  it  stares  you  in  the  face.  References.  Un- 
exceptionable references ;  people  will  expect  them 
all  round.' 

*  Please  don't  say  "  unexceptionable  "  ;  say  "  refer- 
ences beyond  the  reach  of  cavil."  '  Merton  was  a 
purist.  '  It  costs  more  in  advertisements,  but  my 
phrase  at  once  enlists  the  sympathy  of  every  liberal 
and  elegant  mind.  But  as  to  references  (and  I  am 
glad  that  you  have  some  common  sense,  Logan), 
there  is,  let  me  see,  there  is  the  Dowager.' 

'  The  divine  Althaea  —  Marchioness  of  Bowton  ? ' 

*  The  same,'  said  Merton.  '  The  oldest  woman, 
and  the  most  recklessly  up-to-date  in  London.  She 
has  seen  bien  d'autres,  and  wants  to  see  more.' 

*  She  will  do ;   and  my  aunt,'  Logan  said. 


THE   GREAT   IDEA  15 

*  Not,  oh,  of  course  not,  the  one  who  left  her 
money  to  the  Armenians?'  Merton  asked. 

*  No,  another.  And  there 's  old  Lochmaben's 
young  wife,  my  cousin,  widely  removed,  by  marriage. 
She  is  American,  you  know,  and  perhaps  you  know 
her  book,  Social  Experiments  ? ' 

'  Yes,  it  is  not  half  bad,'  Merton  conceded,  '  and 
her  heart  will  be  in  what  I  fear  she  will  call  "  the  new 
departure."  And  she  is  pretty,  and  highly  respected 
in  the  parish.' 

'  And  there  's  my  aunt  I  spoke  of,  or  great  aunt, 
Miss  Nicky  Maxwell.  The  best  old  thing :  a  beauti- 
ful monument  of  old  gentility,  and  she  would  give 
her  left  hand  to  help  any  one  of  the  clan.' 

'She  will  do.  And  there's  Mrs.  Brown-Smith, 
Lord  Yarrow's  daughter,  who  married  the  patent 
soap  man.  Ei/e  est  capable  de  tout,  A  real  good 
woman,  but  full  of  her  fun.' 

*  That  will  do  for  the  lady  patronesses.  We  must 
secure  them  at  once.' 

'But  won't  the  clients  blab?  '  Logan  suggested. 

'They  can't,'  Merton  said.  'They  would  be 
laughed  at  consumedly.  It  will  be  their  interest  to 
hold  their  tongues.' 

'Well,  let  us  hope  that  they  will  see  it  in  that 
light.'     Logan  was  not  too  sanguine. 

Merton  had  a  better  opinion  of  his  enterprise. 

'  People,  if  they  come  to  us  at  all  for  assistance  in 
these  very  delicate  and  intimate  affairs,  will  have  too 
much  to  lose  by  talking  about  them.  They  may  not 
come,  we  can  only  try,  but  if  they  come  they 
will  be  silent  as  the  grave  usually  is.' 


i6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Well,  it  is  late,  and  the  whisky  is  low,'  said  Logan 
in  mournful  tones.  '  May  the  morrow's  reflections 
justify  the  inspiration  of — the  whisky.  Good 
night !  ' 

*  Good  night,'  said  Merton  absently. 

He  sat  down  when  Logan  had  gone,  and  wrote  a 
few  notes  on  large  sheets  of  paper.  He  was  elabo- 
rating the  scheme.  '  If  collaboration  consists  in  mak- 
ing objections,  as  the  French  novelist  said,  Logan 
is  a  rare  collaborator,'  Merton  muttered  as  he  turned 
out  the  pallid  lamp  and  went  to  bed. 

Next  morning,  before  dressing,  he  revolved  the 
scheme.  It  bore  the  change  of  light  and  survived 
the  inspiration  of  alcohol.  Logan  looked  in  after 
breakfast.  He  had  no  new  objections.  They  pro- 
ceeded to  action. 


II 

FROM   THE   HIGHWAYS   AND   HEDGES 

THE  first  step  towards  Merton's  scheme  was 
taken  at  once.  The  lady  patronesses  were 
approached.  The  divine  Althaea  instantly  came  in. 
She  had  enjoyed  few  things  more  since  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond's  ball  on  the  eve  of  Waterloo.  Miss 
Nicky  Maxwell  at  first  professed  a  desire  to  open 
her  coffers,  'only  anticipating,'  she  said,  'an  event' 
—  which  Logan  declined  in  any  sense  to  antici- 
pate. Lady  Lochmaben  said  that  they  would  have 
a  lovely  time  as  experimental  students  of  society. 
Mrs.  Brown-Smith  instantly  offered  her  own  services 
as  a  Disentangler,  her  lord  being  then  absent  in 
America  studying  the  negro  market  for  detergents. 

'  I  think,'  she  said, '  he  expects  Brown-Smith's  brand 
to  make  an  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  and  then  means 
to  exhibit  him  as  an  advertisement.' 

'  And  settle  the  negro  question  by  making  them  all 
white  men,'  said  Logan,  as  he  gracefully  declined  the 
generous  but  compromising  proposal  of  the  lady. 
'Yet,  after  all,'  thought  he,  'is  she  not  right?  The 
prophylactic  precautions  would  certainly  be  increased, 
morally  speaking,  if  the  Disentanglers  were  married.' 
But  while  he  pigeon-holed  this  idea  for  future  refer- 

2 


i8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ence,  at  the  moment  he  could  not  see  his  way  to 
accepting  Mrs.  Brown-Smith's  spirited  idea.  She 
reluctantly  acquiesced  in  his  view  of  the  case,  but, 
like  the  other  dames,  promised  to  guarantee,  if 
applied  to,  the  absolute  respectability  of  the  enter- 
prise. The  usual  vows  of  secrecy  were  made,  and 
(what  borders  on  the  supernatural)  they  were 
kept. 

Merton's  first  editions  went  to  Sotheby's, '  Property 
of  a  gentleman  who  is  changing  his  objects  of  collec- 
tion.' A  Russian  archduke  bought  Logan's  unique 
set  of  golf  clubs  by  Philp.  Funds  accrued  from 
other  sources.  Logan  had  a  friend,  dearer  friend 
had  no  man,  one  Trevor,  a  pleasant  bachelor  whose 
sister  kept  house  for  him.  His  purse,  or  rather  his 
cheque  book,  gaped  with  desire  to  be  at  Logan's 
service,  but  had  gaped  in  vain.  Finding  Logan 
grinning  one  day  over  the  advertisement  columns 
of  a  paper  at  the  club,  his  prophetic  soul  discerned 
a  good  thing,  and  he  wormed  it  out '  in  dern  privacy.* 
He  slapped  his  manly  thigh  and  insisted  on  being  in 
it — as  a  capitalist.  The  other  stoutly  resisted,  but 
was  overcome. 

'  You  need  an  office,  you  need  retaining  fees,  you 
need  outfits  for  the  accomplices,  and  it  is  a  legitimate 
investment.     I  '11  take  interest  and  risks,'  said  Trevor. 

So  the  money  was  found. 

The  inaugural  dinner,  for  the  engaging  of  accom- 
plices, was  given  in  a  private  room  of  a  restaurant  in 
Pall  Mall. 

The  dinner  was  gay,  but  a  little  pathetic.  Neatness, 
rather  than  the  gloss  of  novelty  (though  other  gloss 


FROM   THE   HIGHWAYS  AND   HEDGES       19 

there  was),  characterised  the  garments  of  the  men. 
The  toilettes  of  the  women  were  modest ;  that  amount 
of  praise  (and  it  is  a  good  deal)  they  deserved.  A 
young  lady,  Miss  Maskelyne,  an  amber-hued  beauty, 
who  practically  lived  as  a  female  jester  at  the  houses 
of  the  great,  shone  resplendent,  indeed,  but  magnifi- 
cence of  apparel  was  demanded  by  her  profession. 

'  I  am  so  tired  of  it,'  she  said  to  Merton.  '  Fancy 
being  more  and  more  anxious  for  country  house  invita- 
tions. Fancy  an  artist's  feelings,  when  she  knows  she 
has  not  been  a  success.  And  then  when  the  woman 
of  the  house  detests  you  !  She  often  does.  And  when, 
they  ask  you  to  give  your  imitation  of  So-and-so,  and 
forget  that  his  niece  is  in  the  room !  Do  you  know 
what  they  would  have  called  people  like  me  a  hun- 
dred years  ago?  Toad-eaters!  There  is  one  of  us 
in  an  old  novel  I  read  a  bit  of  once.  She  goes  about, 
an  old  maid,  to  houses.  Once  she  arrived  in  a  snow 
storm  and  a  hearse.  Am  I  to  come  to  that?  I  keep 
learning  new  drawing-room  tricks.  And  when  you 
fall  ill,  as  I  did  at  Eckford,  and  you  can't  leave,  and 
you  think  they  are  tired  to  death  of  you  !  Oh,  it  is 
I  who  am  tired,  and  time  passes,  and  one  grows  old. 
I  am  a  hag  ! ' 

Merton  said  *  what  he  ought  to  have  said,'  and 
what,  indeed,  was  true.  He  was  afraid  she  would 
tell  him  what  she  owed  her  dressmakers.  Therefore 
he  steered  the  talk  round  to  sport,  then  to  the  High- 
lands, then  to  Knoydart,  then  to  Alastair  Macdonald 
of  Craigiecorrichan,  and  then  Merton  knew,  by  a 
tone  in  the  voice,  a  drop  of  the  eyelashes,  that  Miss 
Maskelyne   was  —  vaccinated.     Prophylactic     meas- 


20  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ures  had  been  taken :  this  agent  ran  no  risk  of  infec- 
tion.    There  was  Alastair. 

Merton  turned  to  Miss  Willoughby,  on  his  left. 
She  was  tall,  dark,  handsome,  but  a  little  faded,  and 
not  plump :  few  of  the  faces  round  the  table  were 
plump  and  well  liking.  Miss  Willoughby,  in  fact, 
dwelt  in  one  room,  in  Bloomsbury,  and  dined  on 
cocoa  and  bread  and  butter.  These  were  for  her 
the  rewards  of  the  Higher  Education.  She  lived 
by  copying  crabbed  manuscripts. 

*Do  you  ever  go  up  to  Oxford  now?'  said  Merton. 

'  Not  often.  Sometimes  a  St.  Ursula  girl  gets  a 
room  in  the  town  for  me.  I  have  coached  two  or 
three  of  them  at  little  reading  parties.  It  gets  one 
out  of  town  in  autumn:  Bloomsbury  in  August  is 
not  very  fresh.  And  at  Oxford  one  can  "  tout,"  or 
"cadge,"  for  a  little  work.  But  there  are  so  many 
of  us.' 

'  What  are  you  busy  with  just  now?  ' 

'  Vatican  transcripts  at  the  Record  Office.' 

'  Any  exciting  secrets?  ' 

'  Oh  no,  only  how  much  the  priests  here  paid  to 
Rome  for  their  promotions.  Secrets  then  perhaps : 
not  thrilling  now.' 

'  No  schemes  to  poison  people?' 

'Not  yet:  no  plots  for  novels,  and  oh,  such  long- 
winded  pontifical  Latin,  and  such  awful  crabbed 
hands.' 

'  It  does  not  seem  to  lead  to  much?  ' 

'  To  nothing,  in  no  way.  But  one  is  glad  to  get 
anything.' 

'Jephson,  of  Lincoln,  whom   I   used  to  know,  is 


FROM  THE    HIGHWAYS   AND    HEDGES       21 

doing  a  book  on  the  Knights  of  St.  John  in  their 
Relations  to  the  Empire,'  said  Merton. 

'Is  he?'  said  Miss  Willoughby,  after  a  scarcely 
distinguishable  but  embarrassed  pause,  and  she  turned 
from  Merton  to  exhibit  an  interest  in  the  very  original 
scheme  of  mural  decoration  behind  her. 

'  It  is  quite  a  new  subject  to  most  people,'  said 
Merton,  and  he  mentally  ticked  off  Miss  Willoughby 
as  safe,  for  Jephson,  whom  he  had  heard  that  she 
liked,  was  a  very  poor  man,  living  on  his  fellowship 
and  coaching.  He  was  sorry:  he  had  never  liked  or 
trusted  Jephson. 

*  It  is  a  subject  sure  to  create  a  sensation,  is  n't  it? ' 
asked  Miss  Willoughby,  a  little  paler  than  before. 

'  It  might  get  a  man  a  professorship,'  said  Merton. 

'There  are  so  many  of  us,  of  them,  I  mean,'  said 
Miss  Willoughby,  and  Merton  gave  a  small  sigh. 
'  Not  much  larkiness  here,'  he  thought,  and  asked  a 
transient  waiter  for  champagne. 

Miss  Willoughby  drank  a  little  of  the  wine :  the 
colour  came  into  her  face. 

'By  Jove,  she's  awfully  handsome,'  thought 
Merton. 

'  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  ask  me  to  this  festival,' 
said  the  girl.    '  Why  have  you  asked  us,  me  at  least? ' 

'  Perhaps  for  many  besides  the  obvious  reason,' 
said  Merton.     *  You  may  be  told  later.' 

'  Then  there  is  a  reason  in  addition  to  that  which 
most  people  don't  find  obvious?  Have  you  come 
into  a  fortune? ' 

'  No,  but  I  am  coming.  My  ship  is  on  the  sea 
and  my  boat  is  on  the  shore/ 


22  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  I  see  faces  that  I  know.  There  is  that  tall  hand- 
some girl,  Miss  Markham,  with  real  gold  hair,  next 
Mr.  Logan,  We  used  to  call  her  the  Venus  of  Milo, 
or  Milo  for  short,  at  St.  Ursula's.  She  has  mantles 
and  things  tried  on  her  at  Madame  Claudine's,  and 
stumpy  purchasers  argue  from  the  effect  (neglecting 
the  cause)  that  the  things  will  suit  them.  Her  peo- 
ple were  ruined  by  Australian  gold  mines.  And 
there  is  Miss  Martin,  who  does  stories  for  the  penny 
story  papers  at  a  shilling  the  thousand  words.  The 
fathers  have  backed  horses,  and  the  children's  teeth 
are  set  on  edge.  Is  it  a  Neo-Christian  dinner?  We 
are  all  so  poor.  You  have  sought  us  in  the  highways 
and  hedges.' 

*  Where  the  wild  roses  grow,'  said  Merton. 

'  I  don't  know  many  of  the  men,  though  I  see  faces 
that  one  used  to  see  in  the  High.  There  is  Mr. 
Yorker,  the  athletic  man.     What  is  he  doing  now?' 

'  He  is  sub-vice-secretary  of  a  cricket  club.  His 
income  depends  on  his  bat  and  his  curl  from  leg. 
But  he  has  a  rich  aunt.' 

'  Cricket  does  not  lead  to  much,  any  more  than  my 
ability  to  read  the  worst  handwritings  of  the  darkest 
ages.  Who  is  the  man  that  the  beautiful  lady  oppo- 
site is  making  laugh  so?'  asked  Miss  Willoughby, 
without  moving  her  lips. 

Merton  wrote  '  Bulstrode  of  Trinity  '  on  the  back 
of  the  menu. 

'  What  does  he  do?' 

'  Nothing,'  said  Merton  in  a  low  voice.  '  Been 
alligator  farming,  or  ostrich  farming,  or  ranching,  and 
come  back  shorn ;  they  all  come  back.     He  wants  to 


MISS   MASKELYiNE   DID   A   TKICK. 


FROM  THE   HIGHWAYS  AND   HEDGES      23 

be  an  ecclesiastical  "  chucker  out,"  and  cope  with  Mr. 

Kensitt  and  Co.     New  profession.' 

'  He  ought  not  to  be  here.     He  can  ride  and  shoot.' 
'  He  is  the  only  son  of  his  mother  and  she  is  a 

widow.' 

*  He  ought  to  go  out.  My  only  brother  is  out.  I 
wish  I  were  a  man.  I  hate  dawdlers.'  She  looked 
at  him:  her  eyes  were  large  and  grey  under  black 
lashes,  they  were  dark  and  louring. 

*  Have  you,  by  any  chance,  a  spark  of  the  devil  in 
you?'  asked  Merton,  taking  a  social  header. 

'  I  have  been  told  so,  and  sometimes  thought  so,' 
said  Miss  Willoughby.  '  Perhaps  this  one  will  go  out 
by  fasting  if  not  by  prayer.  Yes,  I  have  a  spark  of 
the  Accuser  of  the  Brethren.' 

*  Tant  mieiix,'  thought  Merton. 

All  the  people  were  talking  and  laughing  now. 
Miss  Maskelyne  told  a  story  to  the  table.  She  did 
a  trick  with  a  wine  glass,  forks,  and  a  cork.  Logan 
interviewed  Miss  Martin,  who  wrote  tales  for  the 
penny  fiction  people,  on  her  methods.  Had  she  a 
moral  aim,  a  purpose?  Did  she  create  her  characters 
first,  and  let  them  evolve  their  fortunes,  or  did  she 
invent  a  plot,  and  make  her  characters  fit  in? 

Miss  Martin  said  she  began  with  a  situation:  'I 
wish  I  could  get  one  somewhere  as  secretary  to  a 
man  of  letters.' 

'  They  can't  afford  secretaries,'  said  Logan.  '  Be- 
sides they  are  family  men,  married  men,  and  so ' 

'And  so  what?' 

'  Go  look  in  any  glass,  and  say,'  said  Logan,  laugh- 
ing.    '  But  how  do  you  begin  with  a  situation? ' 


24  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Oh,  anyhow.  A  lot  of  men  in  a  darkened  room. 
Pitch  dark.' 

'  A  s6ance?' 

'  No,  a  conspiracy.  They  are  in  the  dark  that  when 
arrested  they  may  swear  they  never  saw  each  other.' 

*  They  could  swear  that  anyhow.' 

'  Conspirators  have  consciences.  Then  there  comes 
a  red  light  shining  between  the  door  and  the  floor. 
Then  the  door  breaks  down  under  a  hammer,  the 
light  floods  the  room.  There  is  a  man  in  it  whom 
the  others  never  saw  enter,' 

*  How  did  he  get  in?  ' 

'  He  was  there  before  they  came.     Then  the  fight- 
ing begins.     At  the  end  of  it  where  is  the  man?  ' 
'  Well,  where  is  he?     What  was  he  up  to? ' 

*  I  don't  know  yet,'  said  Miss  Martin, '  it  just  comes 
as  I  go  on.  It  has  just  got  to  come.  It  is  a  fourteen 
hours  a  day  business.  All  writing.  I  crib  things 
from  the  French.  Not  whole  stories.  I  take  the 
opening  situation ;  say  the  two  men  in  a  boat  on  the 
river  who  hook  up  a  sack.  I  don't  read  the  rest  of 
the  Frenchman,  I  work  on  from  the  sack,  and  guess 
what  was  in  it.' 

*  What  was  in  the  sack?' 

'  hi  the  Sack  !  A  name  for  a  story !  Anything, 
from  the  corpse  of  a  freak  (good  idea,  corpse  of  a 
freak  with  no  arms  and  legs,  or  with  too  many)  to  a 
model  of  a  submarine  ship,  or  political  papers.  But 
I  am  tired  of  corpses.  They  pervade  my  works. 
They  give  "  a  bouquet,  a  fragrance,"  as  Mr.  Talbot 
Twysden  said  about  his  cheap  claret.' 

'  You  read  the  old  Masters? ' 


FROM  THE   HIGHWAYS  AND   HEDGES       25 

'  The  obsolete  Thackeray?  Yes,  I  know  him  pretty 
well.' 

'What  are  you  publishing  just  now?' 

•  This  to  an  author?     Don't  you  know?  * 
'  I  blush,'  said  Logan. 

'  Unseen,'  said  Miss  Martin,  scrutinising  him  closely. 

'  Well,  you  do  not  read  the  serials  to  which  I  con- 
tribute,' she  went  on.  '  I  have  two  or  three  things 
running.     There  is  The  Judge's  Secret^ 

'What  was  that?' 

'  He  did  it  himself,' 

'Did  what?' 

'  Killed  the  bishop.  He  is  not  a  very  plausible 
judge  in  English :  in  French  he  would  be  all  right,  a 
juge  d' instruction,  the  man  who  cross-examines  the 
prisoners  in  private,  you  know.' 

'  Judges  don't  do  that  in  England,'  said  Logan. 

'  No,  but  this  case  is  an  exception.  The  judge  was 
such  a  very  old  friend,  a  college  friend,  of  the  mur- 
dered bishop.  So  he  takes  advantage  of  his  official 
position,  and  steals  into  the  cell  of  the  accused.  My 
public  does  not  know  any  better,  and,  of  course,  I 
have  no  reviewers.     I  never  come  out  in  a  book.' 

*  And  why  did  the  judge  assassinate  the  prelate?  ' 

'  The  prelate  knew  too  much  about  the  judge,  who 
sat  in  the  Court  of  Probate  and  Divorce.' 

'  Satan  reproving  sin?  '  asked  Logan. 

'  Yes,  exactly ;  and  the  bishop  being  interested  in 
the  case ' 

'No  scandal  about  Mrs.  Proudie?' 

'  No,  not  that  exactly,  still,  you  see  the  motive?  ' 

'  I  do,'  said  Logan.     '  And  the  conclusion? ' 


26  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

*  The  bishop  was  not  really  dead  at  all.  It  takes 
some  time  to  explain.  The  corpus  delicti —  you  see 
I  know  my  subject  —  was  somebody  else.  And  the 
bishop  was  alive,  and  secretly  watching  the  judge, 
disguised  as  Mr.  Sherlock  Holmes.  Oh,  I  know  it  is 
too  much  in  Dickens's  manner.  But  my  public  has 
not  read  Dickens.' 

'  You  interest  me  keenly'  said  Logan, 

'  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  And  the  penny  public  take 
freely.  Our  circulation  goes  up.  I  asked  for  a  rise 
of  three  pence  on  the  thousand  words.' 

'  Now  this  is  what  I  call  literary  conversation,'  said 
Logan.  '  It  is  like  reading  The  British  Weekly  Book- 
man. Did  you  get  the  threepence?  if  the  inquiry  is 
not  indelicate.' 

'  I  got  twopence.  But,  you  see,  there  are  so  many 
of  us.' 

'  Tell  me  more.    Are  you  serialising  anything  else?  ' 

'  Serialising  is  the  right  word.  I  see  you  know  a 
great  deal  about  literature.  Yes,  I  am  serialising  a 
featured  tale.' 

'A  featured  tale?' 

'  You  don't  know  what  that  is?  You  do  not  know 
everything  yet!     It  is  called  Myself.' 

'  Why  Myself? ' 

'  Oh,  because  the  narrator  did  it  —  the  murder.  A 
stranger  is  found  in  a  wood,  hung  to  a  tree.  Nobody 
knows  who  he  is.  But  he  and  the  narrator  had 
met  in  Paraguay.  He,  the  murdered  man,  came 
home,  visited  the  narrator,  and  fell  in  love  with  the 
beautiful  being  to  whom  the  narrator  was  engaged. 
So  the  narrator  lassoed  him  in  a  wood/ 


FROM  THE   HIGHWAYS  AND   HEDGES       27 

'Why?' 

'  Oh,  the  old  stock  reason.     He  knew  too  much.' 

'  What  did  he  know?  ' 

'  Why,  that  the  narrator  was  Hving  on  a  treasure 
originally  robbed  from  a  church  in  South  America.' 

'  But,  if  it  was  a  treasure,  who  would  care?  ' 

'The  girl  was  a  Catholic.  And  the  murdered  man 
knew  more.' 

'  How  much  more?' 

'  This :  to  find  out  about  the  treasure,  the  narrator 
had  taken  priest's  orders,  and,  of  course,  could  not 
marry.  And  the  other  man,  being  in  love  with  the 
girl,  threatened  to  tell,  and  so  the  lasso  came  in 
handy.     It  is  a  Protestant  story  and  instructive.' 

'Jolly  instructive!  But,  Miss  Martin,  you  are  the 
Guy  Boothby  of  your  sex ! ' 

At  this  supreme  tribute  the  girl  blushed  like  dawn 
upon  the  hills. 

'  My  word,  she  is  pretty !  '  thought  Logan  ;  but 
what  he  said  was,  '  You  know  Mr.  Tierney,  your 
neighbour?  Out  of  a  job  as  a  composition  master. 
Almost  reduced  to  University  Extension  Lectures  on 
the  didactic  Drama.' 

Tierney  was  talking  eagerly  to  his  neighbour,  a 
fascinating  lady  laundress,  /a  belle  blancliisseiise, 
about  starch. 

Further  off  a  lady  instructress  in  cookery.  Miss 
Frere,  was  conversing  with  a  tutor  of  bridge. 

'  Tierney,'  said  Logan,  in  a  pause,  '  may  I  present 
you  to  Miss  Martin?'  Then  he  turned  to  Miss 
Markham,  formerly  known  at  St.  Ursula's  as  Milo. 
She  had  been  a  teacher  of  golf,  hockey,  cricket,  fenc- 


28  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ing,  and  gymnastics,  at  a  very  large  school  for  girls, 
in  a  very  small  town.  Here  she  became  society  to 
such  an  alarming  extent  (no  party  being  complete 
without  her,  while  the  colonels  and  majors  never  left 
her  in  peace),  that  her  connection  with  education  was 
abruptly  terminated.  At  present  raiment  was  draped 
on  her  magnificent  shoulders  at  Madame  Claudine's. 
Logan,  as  he  had  told  Merton,  *  occasionally  met  her,' 
and  Logan  had  the  strongest  reasons  for  personal 
conviction  that  she  was  absolutely  proof  against  in- 
fection, in  the  trying  circumstances  to  which  a  Dis- 
entangler  is  professionally  exposed.  Indeed  she 
alone  of  the  women  present  knew  from  Logan  the 
purpose  of  the  gathering. 

Cigarettes  had  replaced  the  desire  of  eating  and 
drinking.  Merton  had  engaged  a  withdrawing  room, 
where  he  meant  to  be  closeted  with  his  guests,  one 
by  one,  administer  the  oath,  and  prosecute  delicate 
inquiries  on  the  important  question  of  immunity 
from  infection.  But,  after  a  private  word  or  two 
with  Logan,  he  deemed  these  conspicuous  formal- 
ities needless.  *  We  have  material  enough  to  begin 
with,'  said  Logan.  '  We  knew  beforehand  that  some 
of  the  men  were  safe,  and  certain  of  the  women.' 

There  was  a  balcony.  The  providence  of  nature 
had  provided  a  full  moon,  and  a  night  of  balm.  The 
imaginative  maintained  that  thp  scent  of  hay  was 
breathed,  among  other  odours,  over  Pall  Mall  the 
Blest.  Merton  kept  straying  with  one  guest  or  an- 
other into  a  corner  of  the  balcony.  He  hinted  that 
there  was  a  thing  in  prospect.  Would  the  guest  hold 
himself,  or  herself,  ready  at  need?     Next  morning, 


FROM  THE   HIGHWAYS  AND   HEDGES       29 

if  the  promise  was  given,  the  guest  might  awake  to 
peace  of  conscience.  The  scheme  was  beneficent, 
and,  incidentally,  cheerful. 

To  some  he  mentioned  retainers;  money  down, 
to  speak  grossly.  Most  accepted  on  the  strength 
of  Merton's  assurances  that  their  services  must  al- 
ways be  ready.  There  were  difficulties  with  Miss 
Willoughby  and  Miss  Markham.  The  former  lady 
(who  needed  it  most)  flatly  refused  the  arrangement, 
Merton  pleaded  in  vain.  Miss  Markham,  the  girl 
known  to  her  contemporaries  as  Milo,  could  not 
hazard  her  present  engagement  at  Madame  Claudine's. 
If  she  was  needed  by  the  scheme  in  the  dead  season 
she  thought  that  she  could  be  ready  for  whatever  it 
was. 

Nobody  was  told  exactly  what  the  scheme  was.  It 
was  only  made  clear  that  nobody  was  to  be  employed 
without  the  full  and  exhaustive  knowledge  of  the 
employers,  for  whom  Merton  and  Logan  were  merely 
agents.  If  in  doubt,  the  agents  might  apply  for 
counsel  to  the  lady  patronesses,  whose  very  names 
tranquilised  the  most  anxious  inquirers.  The  oath 
was  commuted  for  a  promise,  on  honour,  of  secrecy. 
And,  indeed,  little  if  anything  was  told  that  could  be 
revealed.  The  thing  was  not  political :  spies  on 
Russia  or  France  were  not  being  recruited.  That 
was  made  perfectly  clear.  Anybody  might  withdraw, 
if  the  prospect,  when  beheld  nearer,  seemed  undesir- 
able. A  mystified  but  rather  merry  gathering  walked 
away  to  remote  lodgings.  Miss  Maskelyne  alone 
patronising  a  hansom. 

On  the  day  after  the    dinner  Logan  and  Merton 


so  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

reviewed  the  event  and  its  promise,  taking  Trevor 
into  their  counsels.  They  were  not  ill  satisfied  with 
the  potential  recruits. 

'There  was  one  jolly  little  thing  in  white,'  said 
Trevor,  '  So  pretty  and  flowering  !  "  Cherries  ripe 
themselves  do  cry,"  a  line  in  an  old  song,  that's  what 
her  face  reminded  me  of.     Who  was  she?  ' 

'She  came  with  Miss  Martin,  the  penny  novelist/ 
said  Logan.  '  She  is  stopping  with  her.  A  country 
parson's  daughter,  come  up  to  town  to  try  to  live  by 
typewriting.' 

'  She  will  be  of  no  use  to  us,'  said  Merton.  '  If 
ever  a  young  woman  looked  fancy-free  it  is  that  girl. 
What  did  you  say  her  name  is,  Logan? ' 

*  I  did  not  say,  but,  though  you  won't  believe  it, 
her  name  is  Miss  Blossom,  Miss  Florry  Blossom.  Her 
godfathers  and  godmothers  must  bear  the  burden  of 
her  appropriate  Christian  name ;  the  other,  the  sur- 
name, is  a  coincidence  —  designed  or  not' 

'  Well,  she  is  not  suitable,'  said  Merton  sternly. 
'  Misplaced  affections  she  might  distract,  but  then, 
after  she  had  distracted  them,  she  might  reciprocate 
them.  As  a  conscientious  manager  I  cannot  recom- 
mend her  to  clients.' 

'  But,'  said  Trevor,  '  she  may  be  useful  for  all  that, 
as  well  as  decidedly  ornamental.  Merton,  you  '11 
want  a  typewriter  for  your  business  correspondence, 
and  Miss  Blossom  typewrites:   it  is  her  profession.' 

'  Well,'  said  Merton,  '  I  am  not  afraid.  I  do  not 
care  too  much  for  "  that  garden  in  her  face,"  for  your 
cherry-ripe  sort  of  young  person.  If  a  typewriter  is 
necessary  I  can  bear  with  her  as  well  as  another.' 


FROM  THE   HIGHWAYS   AND   HEDGES      31 

*I  admire  your  courage  and  resignation,'  said 
Trevor,  '  so  now  let  us  go  and  take  rooms  for  the 
Society.' 

They  found  rooms,  lordly  rooms,  which  Trevor 
furnished  in  a  stately  manner,  hanging  a  selection  of 
his  mezzotints  on  the  walls — ladies  of  old  years, 
after  Romney,  Reynolds,  Hoppner,  and  the  rest.  A 
sober  opulence  and  comfort  characterised  the  cham- 
bers ;  a  well-selected  set  of  books  in  a  Sheraton 
bookcase  was  intended  to  beguile  the  tedium  of  wait- 
ing clients.  The  typewriter  (Miss  Blossom  accepted 
the  situation)  occupied  an  inner  chamber,  opening 
out  of  that  which  was  to  be  sacred  to  consultations. 

The  firm  traded  under  the  title  of  Messrs.  Gray 
and  Graham.  Their  advertisement —  in  all  the  news- 
papers—  addressed  itself  'To  Parents,  Guardians, 
Children  and  others.'  It  set  forth  the  sorrows  and 
anxieties  which  beset  families  in  the  matter  of  unde- 
sirable matrimonial  engagements  and  entanglements. 
The  advertisers  proposed,  by  a  new  method,  to  re- 
store domestic  peace  and  confidence.  '  No  private 
inquiries  will,  in  any  case,  be  made  into  the  past  of 
the  parties  concerned.  The  highest  references  will 
in  every  instance  be  given  and  demanded.  Intending 
clients  must  in  the  first  instance  apply  by  letter  to 
Messrs.  Gray  and  Graham.  No  charge  will  be  made 
for  a  first  interview,  which  can  only  be  granted  after 
satisfactory  references  have  been  exchanged  by 
letter.' 

'  If  that  does  not  inspire  confidence,'  said  Merton, 
*  I  don't  know  what  will.' 

'  Nothing  short  of  it  will  do,'  said  Logan. 


32  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  But  the  mezzotints  will  carry  weight/  said  Trevor, 
'and  a  few  good  cloisonnes  and  enamelled  snuff-boxes 
and  bronzes  will  do  no  harm,' 

So  he  sent  in  some  weedings  of  his  famous 
collection. 


Ill 

ADVENTURE   OF  THE   FIRST   CLIENTS 

MERTON  was  reading  the  newspaper  in  the 
office,  expecting  a  client.  Miss  Blossom 
was  typewriting  in  the  inner  chamber;  the  door 
between  was  open.  The  office  boy  knocked  at 
Merton's  outer  door,  and  the  sound  of  that  boy's 
strangled  chuckling  was  distinctly  audible  to  his 
employer.  There  is  something  irritating  in  the 
foolish  merriment  of  a  youthful  menial.  No  con- 
duct could  be  more  likely  than  that  of  the  office  boy 
to  irritate  the  first  client,  arriving  on  business  of 
which  it  were  hard  to  exaggerate  the  delicate  and 
anxious  nature. 

These  reflections  flitted  through  Merton's  mind 
as  he  exclaimed  '  Come  in,'  with  a  tone  of  admon- 
ishing austerity. 

The  office  boy  entered.  His  face  was  scarlet,  his 
eyes  goggled  and  ran  water.  Hastily  and  loudly 
exclaiming  *  Mr.  and  Miss  Apsley  '  (which  ended 
with  a  crow)  he  stuffed  his  red  pocket  handkerchief 
into  his  mouth  and  escaped.  At  the  sound  of  the 
names,  Merton  had  turned  towards  the  inner  door, 
open  behind  him,  whence  came  a  clear  and  pierc- 
ing trill  of  feminine  laughter  from  Miss  Blossom. 
Merton  angrily  marched  to  the  inner  door,  and  shut 

3 


34  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

his  typewriter  in  with  a  bang.  His  heart  burned 
within  him.  Nothing  could  be  so  insulting  to 
clients;  nothing  so  ruinous  to  a  nascent  business. 
He  wheeled  round  to  greet  his  visitors  with  a  face 
of  apology;  his  eyes  on  the  average  level  of  the 
human  countenance  divine.  There  was  no  human 
countenance  divine.  There  was  no  human  counte- 
nance at  that  altitude.  His  eyes  encountered  the 
opposite  wall,  and  a  print  of  '  Mrs.  Pelham  Feeding 
Chickens. ' 

In  a  moment  his  eyes  adjusted  themselves  to  a 
lower  elevation.  In  front  of  him  were  standing, 
hand  in  hand,  a  pair  of  small  children,  a  boy  of  nine 
in  sailor  costume,  but  with  bare  knees  not  usually 
affected  by  naval  ofificers,  and  a  girl  of  seven  with 
her  finger  in  her  mouth. 

The  boy  bowed  gravely.  He  was  a  pretty  little 
fellow  with  a  pale  oval  face,  arched  eyebrows, 
promise  of  an  aquiline  nose,  and  two  large  black 
eyes.  'I  think,  sir,'  said  the  child,  'I  have  the 
pleasure  of  redressing  myself  to  Mr.  Gray  or  Mr. 
Graham  .•*  ' 

'  Graham,  at  your  service,'  said  Merton,  gravely; 
*  may  I  ask  you  and  Miss  Apsley  to  be  seated.''  ' 

There  was  a  large  and  imposing  arm-chair  in 
green  leather;  the  client's  chair.  Mr.  Apsley 
lifted  his  little  sister  into  it,  and  sat  down  beside 
her  himself.  She  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck, 
and  laid  her  flaxen  curls  on  his  shoulder.  Her  blue 
eyes  looked  shyly  at  Merton  out  of  her  fleece  of 
gold.  The  four  shoes  of  the  clients  dangled  at 
som.e  distance  above  the  carpet. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    FIRST   CLIENTS       35 

'  You  are  the  author  of  this  article,  I  think,  Mr. 
Graham?'  said  Mr.  Apsley,  showing  his  hand, 
which  was  warm,  and  holding  out  a  little  crumpled 
ball  of  paper,  not  precisely  fresh. 

Merton  solemnly  unrolled  it;  it  contained  the 
advertisement  of  his  firm. 

'  Yes,'  he  said,  '  I  wrote  that.' 

'You  got  our  letters,  for  you  answered  them,' 
said  Mr,  Apsley,  with  equal  solemnity.  *  Why  do 
you  want  Bats  and  me  .-*  ' 

'  The  lady's  name  is  Bats.''  '  said  Merton,  wonder- 
ing why  he  was  supposed  to  '  want '  either  of  the 
pair. 

'  My  name  is  Batsy.  I  like  you:  you  are  pretty,' 
said  Miss  Apsley. 

Merton  positively  blushed :  he  was  unaccustomed 
to  compliments  so  frank  from  a  member  of  the  sex 
at  an  early  stage  of  a  business  interview.  He 
therefore  kissed  his  fair  client,  who  put  up  a  pair 
of  innocent  damp  lips,  and  then  allowed  her  atten- 
tion to  be  engrossed  by  a  coin  on  his  watch-chain. 

'  I  don't  quite  remember  your  case,  sir,  or  what 
you  mean  by  saying  I  wanted  you,  though  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you,'  he  said  to  Mr.  Apsley.  '  We 
have  so  many  letters!  With  your  permission  I  shall 
consult  the  letter  book. ' 

'The  article  says  "To  Parents,  Guardians,  Chil- 
dren, and  others."  It  was  in  print,'  remarked  Mr. 
Apsley,  with  a  heavy  stress  on  "children,"  and  she 
said  you  wanted  us. ' 

The  mystified  Merton,  wondering  who  '  she  '  was, 
turned   the   pages   of    the    letter   book,    mumbling. 


36  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Abernethy,  Applecombe,  Ap.  Davis,  Apsley. 
Here  we  are, '  he  began  to  read  the  letter  aloud.  It 
was  typewritten,  which,  when  he  saw  his  clients, 
not  a  little  surprised  him. 

'Gentlemen,'  the  letter  ran,  'having  seen  your 
advertisement  in  the  Daily  Diatribe  of  to-day.  May 
17,  I  desire  to  express  my  wish  to  enter  into  com- 
munication with  you  on  a  matter  of  pressing  im- 
portance.—  I  am,  in  the  name  of  my  sister.  Miss 
Josephine  Apsley,  and  myself, 

'  Faithfully  yours, 

*  Thomas  Lloyd  Apsley.  ' 

'That's  the  letter,'  said  Mr.  Apsley,  'and  you 
wrote  to  us.' 

*  And  what  did  I  say.?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  Something  about  preferences,  which  we  did  not 
understand. ' 

'References,  perhaps,'  said  Merton.  'Mr.  Aps- 
ley, may  I  ask  whether  you  wrote  this  letter 
yourself  .-^  ' 

'  No;  None-so-pretty  printed  it  on  a  kind  of  sew- 
ing machine.  She  told  us  to  come  and  see  you,  so 
we  came.  /  called  her  None-so-pretty,  out  of  a 
fairy  story.  She  does  not  mind.  Gran  sa3^s  she 
thinks  she  rather  likes  it.' 

'I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  did,'  said  Merton. 
'But  what  is  her  real  name.'*' 

'  She  made  me  promise  not  to  tell.  She  was 
staying  at  the  Home  Farm  when  we  were  staying 
at  Gran's.' 

'  Is  Gran  your  grandmother? ' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   FIRST   CLIENTS      37 

'  Yes,'  replied  Mr.  Apsley. 

Hereon  Bats  remarked  that  she  was  '  velly  hun- 
galee. ' 

'To  be  sure, '  said  Merton.  'Luncheon  shall  be 
brought  at  once.'  He  rang  the  bell,  and,  going 
out,   interpellated  the  office  boy. 

'  Why  did  you  laugh  when  my  friends  came  to 
luncheon.^     Vou  must  learn  manners.' 

'  Please,  sir,  the  kid,  the  young  gentleman  I 
mean,  said  he  came  on  business, '  answered  the  boy, 
showing  apoplectic  symptoms. 

'So  he  did;  luncheon  is  his  business.  Go  and 
bring  luncheon  for  —  five,  and  see  that  there  are 
chicken,  cutlets,  tartlets,  apricots,  and  ginger-beer.' 

The  boy  departed  and  Merton  reflected.  '  A 
hoax,  somebody's  practical  joke,'  he  said  to  him- 
self. 'I  wonder  who  Miss  None-so-pretty  is.' 
Then  he  returned,  assured  Batsy  that  luncheon  was 
even  at  the  doors,  and  leaving  her  to  look  at  Punchy 
led  Mr.  Apsley  aside.  'Tommy,'  he  said  (having 
seen  his  signature),  '  where  do  you  live.?  ' 

The  boy  named  a  street  on  the  frontiers  of  St. 
John's  Wood. 

'  And  who  is  your  father.?  ' 

'  Major  Apsley,  D.S.O.' 

'  And  how  did  you  come  here } ' 

'  In  a  hansom.     I  told  the  man  to  wait.' 

'  How  did  you  get  away  ?  ' 

'  Father  took  us  to  Lord's,  with  Miss  Limmer, 
and  there  was  a  crowd,  and  Bats  and  I  slipped  out ; 
for  None-so-pretty  said  we  ought  to  call  on  you. ' 

'  Who  is  Miss  Limmer.?  ' 


3^  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Our  governess. ' 

'  Have  you  a  mother? ' 

The  child's  brown  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  his 
cheeks  flushed.     '  It  was  in  India  that  she ' 

'  Yes,  be  a  man,  Tommy.  I  am  looking  the 
other  way,'  which  Merton  did  for  some  seconds. 
'  Now,  Tommy,  is  Miss  Limmer  kind  to  you? ' 

The  child's  face  became  strangely  set  and  blank; 
his  eyes  looking  vacant.  '  Miss  Limmer  is  very 
kind  to  us.  She  loves  us  and  we  love  her  dearly. 
Ask  Batsy, '  he  said  in  a  monotonous  voice,  as  if  he 
were  repeating  a  lesson.  '  Batsy,  come  here, '  he 
said  in  the  same  voice.  '  Is  Miss  Limmer  kind  to 
us?' 

Batsy  threw  up  her  eyes  —  it  was  like  a  stage 
effect,  *  We  love  Miss  Limmer  dearly,  and  she  loves 
us.  She  is  very,  very  kind  to  us,  like  our  dear 
mamma. '  Her  voice  was  monotonous  too.  '  I 
never  can  say  the  last  part, '  said  Tommy.  *  Batsy 
knows  it;  about  dear  mamma.' 

'  Indeed ! '  said  Merton.  '  Tommy,  why  did  you 
come  here  ?  ' 

'  I  don't  know.  I  told  you  that  None-so-pretty 
told  us  to.  She  did  it  after  she  saw  that  when  we 
were  bathing. '  Tommy  raised  one  of  his  little  loose 
breeks  that  did  not  cover  the  knee. 

That  was  not  pleasant  to  look  on :  it  was  on  the 
inside  of  the  right  thigh. 

*  How  did  you  get  hurt  there?'  asked  Merton. 

The  boy's  monotonous  chant  began  again  :  his  eyes 
were  fixed  and  blank  as  before.  '  I  fell  off  a  tree, 
and  my  leg  hit  a  branch  on  the  way  down.' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   FIRST   CLIENTS      39 

*  Curious  accident,'  said  Merton ;  '  and  None-so- 
pretty  saw  the  mark  ?  ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  And  asked  you  how  you  got  it? 
'Yes,  and  she  saw  blue  marks  on  Batsy,  all  over 
her  arms.' 

*  And  you  told  None-so-pretty  that  you  fell  off  a 
tree?  ' 

'  Yes.' 

'  And  she  told  you  to  come  here?  ' 
'  Yes,  she  had  read  your  printed  article.' 
'  Well,  here  is  luncheon,'  said  Merton,  and  bade 
the  office  boy  call  Miss  Blossom  from  the  inner 
chamber  to  share  the  meal.  Batsy  had  as  low  a 
chair  as  possible,  and  was  disposing  her  napkin  to  do 
the  duty  of  a  pinafore. 

Miss  Blossom  entered  from  within  with  downcast 
eyes. 

*  None-so-pretty !  ' 

'  None-so-pretty !  '  shouted  the  children,  while 
Tommy  rushed  to  throw  his  arms  round  her  neck,  to 
meet  which  she  stooped  down,  concealing  a  face  of 
blushes.  Batsy  descended  from  her  chair,  waddled 
up,  climbed  another  chair,  and  attacked  the  girl  from 
the  rear.  The  office  boy  was  arranging  luncheon. 
Merton  called  him  to  the  writing-table,  scribbled  a 
note,  and  said,  '  Take  that  to  Dr.  Maitland,  with  my 
compliments.' 

Maitland  had  been  one  of  the  guests  at  the  in- 
augural dinner.  He  was  entirely  devoid  of  patients, 
and  was  living  on  the  anticipated  gains  of  a  great 
work  on  Clinical  Psychology. 


40  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'Tell  Dr.  Maitland  he  will  find  me  at  luncheon 
if  he  comes  instantly,'  said  Merton  as  the  boy  fled  on 
his  errand.  '  I  see  that  I  need  not  introduce  you 
to  my  young  friends,  Miss  Blossom,'  said  Merton. 
'  May  I  beg  you  to  help  Miss  Apsley  to  arrange  her 
tucker? ' 

Miss  Blossom,  almost  unbecomingly  brilliant  in 
her  complexion,  did  as  she  was  asked.  Batsy  had 
cold  chicken,  new  potatoes,  green  peas,  and  two 
helpings  of  apricot  tart.  Tommy  devoted  himself  to 
cutlets.  A  very  mild  shandygaff  was  compounded 
for  him  in  an  old  Oriel  pewter.  Both  children  made 
love  to  Miss  Blossom  with  their  eyes.  It  was  not  at 
all  what  Merton  felt  inclined  to  do ;  the  lady  had 
entangled  him  in  a  labyrinth  of  puzzledom. 

'  None-so-pretty,'  exclaimed  Tommy,  '  I  am  glad 
you  told  us  to  come  here.  Your  friends  are 
nice.' 

Merton  bowed  to  Tommy,  '  I  am  glad  too,'  he 
said.  '  Miss  Blossom  knew  that  we  were  kindred 
souls,  same  kind  of  chaps,  I  mean,  you  and  me,  you 
know,  Tommy !  ' 

Miss  Blossom  became  more  and  more  like  the 
fabled  peony,  the  crimson  variety.  Luckily  the 
office  boy  ushered  in  Dr.  Maitland,  who,  exchanging 
glances  of  surprise  with  Merton,  over  the  children's 
heads,  began  to  make  himself  agreeable.  He  had 
nearly  as  many  tricks  as  Miss  Maskelyne.  He  was 
doing  the  shortsighted  man  eating  celery,  and  unable 
to  find  the  salt  because  he  is  unable  to  find  his 
eyeglass. 

Merton,  seeing  his  clients  absorbed  in  mirth,  mur- 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    FIRST    CLIENTS      41 

mured  something  vague  about*  business,'  and  spirited 
Miss  Blossom  away  to  the  inner  chamber. 

'  Sit  down,  pray,  Miss  Blossom.  There  is  no  time 
to  waste.  What  do  you  know  about  these  children? 
Why  did  you  send  them  here?' 

The  girl,  who  was  pale  enough  now,  said,  '  I  never 
thought  they  would  come.' 

'  They  are  here,  however.  What  do  you  know 
about  them? ' 

'  I  went  to  stay,  lately,  at  the  Home  Farm  on  their 
grandmother's  place.  We  became  great  friends.  I 
found  out  that  they  were  motherless,  and  that  they 
were  being  cruelly  ill-treated  by  their  governess.' 

'  Miss  Limmer? ' 

'  Yes.  But  they  both  said  they  loved  her  dearly. 
They  always  said  that  when  asked.  I  gathered  from 
their  grandmother,  old  Mrs.  Apsley,  that  their  father 
would  listen  to  nothing  against  the  governess.  The 
old  lady  cried  in  a  helpless  way,  and  said  he  was 
capable  of  marrying  the  woman,  out  of  obstinacy, 
if  anybody  interfered.  I  had  your  advertisement, 
and  I  thought  you  might  disentangle  him.  It  was  a 
kind  of  joke.  I  only  told  them  that  you  were  a 
kind  gentleman.  I  never  dreamed  of  their  really 
coming.' 

'  Well,  you  must  take  them  back  again  presently, 
there  is  the  address.  You  must  see  their  father ;  you 
must  wait  till  you  see  him.  And  how  are  you  to 
explain  this  escapade?  I  can't  have  the  children 
taught  to  lie.' 

'  They  have  been  taught  that  lesson  already.' 

*  I  don't  think  they  are  aware  of  it,'  said  Merton. 


42  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Miss  Blossom  stared. 

'  I  can't  explain,  but  you  must  find  a  way  of 
keeping  them   out  of  a  scrape. ' 

'I  think  I  can  manage  it,'  said  Miss  Blossom 
demurely. 

'  I  hope  so.  And  manage,  if  you  please,  to  see 
this  Miss  Limmer  and  observe  what  kind  of  person 
she  is,'  said  Merton,  with  his  hand  on  the  door 
handle,  adding,  '  Please  ask  Dr.  Maitland  to  come 
here,  and  do  you  keep  the  children  amused  for  a 
moment. ' 

Miss  Blossom  nodded  and  left  the  room;  there 
was  laughter  in  the  other  chamber.  Presently 
Maitland  joined  Merton, 

'Look  here,'  said  Merton,  'we  must  be  rapid. 
These  children  are  being  cruelly  ill-treated  and 
deny  it.  Will  you  get  into  talk  with  the  boy,  and 
ask  him  if  he  is  fond  of  his  governess,  say  "Miss 
Limmer,"  and  notice  what  he  says  and  how  he  says 
it  .■*     Then  we  must  pack  them  away. ' 

'  All  right,'  said  Maitland. 

They  returned  to  the  children.  Miss  Blossom 
retreated  to  the  inner  room.  Bats  simplified  mat- 
ters by  falling  asleep  in  the  client's  chair.  Mait- 
land began  by  talking  about  schools.  Was  Tommy 
going  to  Eton.-* 

Tommy  did  not  know.  He  had  a  governess  at 
home. 

'  Not  at  a  preparatory  school  yet.''  A  big  fellow 
like  you  .-•  ' 

Tommy  said  that  he  would  like  to  go  to  school, 
but  they  would  not  send  him. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FIRST   CLIENTS      43 

'  Why  not  ? ' 

Tommy  hesitated,  blushed,  and  ended  by  saying 
that  they  didn't  think  it  safe,  as  he  walked  in  his 
sleep. 

'  You  will  soon  grow  out  of  that,'  said  Maitland, 
'  but  it  is  not  very  safe  at  school.  A  boy  I  knew 
was  found  sound  asleep  on  the  roof  at  school. ' 

*  He  might  have  fallen  off,'  said  Tommy. 

'Yes.  That's  why  your  people  keep  you  at 
home.  But  in  a  year  or  two  you  will  be  all  right. 
Know  any  Latin  yet  ?  ' 

Tommy  said  that  Miss  Limmer  taught  him  Latin. 

'  Are  you  and  she  great  friends  .!*  ' 

Tommy's  face  and  voice  altered  as  before,  while 
he  mechanically  repeated  the  tale  of  the  mutual 
affection  which  linked  him  with  Miss  Limmer. 

'  That's  all  very  jolly,'  said  Maitland. 

'  Now,  Tommy, '  said  Merton,  '  we  must  waken 
Batsy,  and  Miss  Blossom  is  going  to  take  you  both 
home.     Hope  we  shall  often  meet.' 

He  called  Miss  Blossom;  Batsy  kissed  both  of 
her  new  friends.  Merton  conducted  the  party  to 
the  cab,  and  settled,  in  spite  of  Tommy's  remon- 
strances, with  the  cabman,  who  made  a  good  thing 
of  it,  and  nodded  when  told  to  drive  away  as  soon  as 
he  had  deposited  his  charges  at  their  door.  Then 
Merton  led  Maitland  upstairs  and  offered  him  a  cigar. 

'  What  do  you  think  of  it.-* '  he  asked. 

*  Common  post-hypnotic  suggestion  by  the  gov- 
erness, *  said  Maitland. 

'  I  guessed  as  much,  but  can  it  really  be  worked 
like  that.''     You  are  not  chaffing:.'  ' 


44  'fHE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Simplest  thing  to  work  in  the  world,'  said  Mait- 
land.  '  A  lot  of  nonsense,  however,  that  the  public 
believes  in  can't  be  done.  The  woman  could  not 
sit  down  in  St.  John's  Wood,  and  "will"  Tommy  to 
come  to  her  if  he  was  in  the  next  room.  At  least 
she  might  "will  "  till  she  was  black  in  the  face,  and 
he  would  know  nothing  about  it.  But  she  can  put 
him  to  sleep,  and  make  him  say  what  he  does  not 
want  to  say,  in  answer  to  questions,  afterwards, 
when  he  is  awake. ' 

'  You  're  sure  of  it.-* ' 

'  It  is  as  certain  as  anything  in  the  world  up  to  a 
certain  point. ' 

'  The  girl  said  something  that  the  boy  did  not 
say,  more  gushing,  about  his  dead  mother.' 

'  The  hypnotised  subject  often  draws  a  line  some- 
where. ' 

*  The  woman  must  be  a  fiend, '  said  Merton. 

*  Some  of  them  are,  now  and  then, '  said  the 
author  of  Clinical  Psychology. 

Miss  Blossom's  cab,  the  driver  much  encouraged 
by  Tommy,  who  conversed  with  him  through  the 
trap  in  the  roof,  dashed  up  to  the  door  of  a  house 
close  to  Lord's.  The  horse  was  going  fast,  and 
nearly  cannoned  into  another  cab-horse,  also  going 
fast,  which  was  almost  thrown  on  its  haunches  by 
the  driver.  Inside  the  other  hansom  was  a  tall  man 
with  a  pale  face  under  the  tan,  who  was  nervously 
gnawing  his  moustache.  Miss  Blossom  saw  him, 
Tommy  saw  him,  and  cried  *  Father! '  Half-hidden 
behind  a  blind  of  the  house  Miss  Blossom  beheld  a 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FIRST   CLIENTS      45 

woman's  face,  expectant.  Clearly  she  was  Miss 
Limmer.  All  the  while  that  they  were  driving 
Miss  Blossom's  wits  had  been  at  work  to  construct 
a  story  to  account  for  the  absence  and  return  of  the 
children.  Now,  by  a  flash  of  invention,  she  called 
to  her  cabman,  'Drive  on  —  fast!'  Major  Apsley 
saw  his  lost  children  with  their  arms  round  the  neck 
of  a  wonderfully  pretty  girl;  the  pretty  girl  waved 
her  parasol  to  him  with  a  smile,  beckoning  for- 
wards; the  children  waved  their  arms,  calling  out 
*  A  race !  a  race  ! ' 

What  could  a  puzzled  parent  do  but  bid  his  cab- 
man follow  like  the  wind.-*  Miss  Blossom's  cab 
flew  past  Lord's,  dived  into  Regent's  Park,  leading 
by  two  lengths;  reached  the  Zoological  Gardens, 
and  there  its  crew  alighted,  demurely  waiting  for 
the  Major.  He  leaped  from  his  hansom,  and  taking 
off  his  hat,  strode  up  to  Miss  Blossom,  as  if  he  were 
leading  a  charge.  The  children  captured  him  by 
the  legs.  'What  does  this  mean.  Madam .^  What 
are  you  doing  with  my  children .''     Who  are  you.-*  ' 

'She's  None-so-pretty,'  said  Tommy,  by  way  of 
introduction. 

Miss  Blossom  bowed  with  grace,  and  raising  her 
head,  shot  two  violet  rays  into  the  eyes  of  the 
Major,  which  were  of  a  bistre  hue.  But  they  ac- 
cepted the  message,  like  a  receiver  in  wireless 
telegraphy.  No  man,  let  be  a  Major,  could  have 
resisted  None-so-pretty  at  that  moment.  '  Come 
into  the  gardens,'  she  said,  and  led  the  way.  *  You 
would  like  a  ride  on  the  elephant.  Tommy.''  she 
asked  Master  Apsley.     '  And  you,  Batsy .' ' 


46  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  children  shouted  assent. 

'  How  in  the  world  does  she  know  them  ? '  thought 
the  bewildered  officer. 

The  children  mounted  the  elephant. 

'Now,  Major  Apsley, '  said  Miss  Blossom,  *I 
have  found  your  children.' 

'  I  owe  you  thanks.  Madam ;  I  have  been  very 
anxious,  but ' 

'  It  is  more  than  your  thanks  I  want.  I  want  you 
to  do  something  for  me,  a  very  little  thing,'  said 
Miss  Blossom,  with  the  air  of  a  supplicating  angel, 
the  violet  eyes  dewy  with  tears. 

'  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  delighted  to  do  anything 
you  ask,   but ' 

'  Will  you  promise  ?  It  is  a  very  little  thing 
indeed ! '  and  her  hands  were  clasped  in  entreaty. 
'  Please  promise ! ' 

*  Well,  I  promise.' 

*  Then  keep  your  word:  it  is  a  little  thing!  Take 
Tommy  home  this  instant,  let  nobody  speak  to  him 
or  touch  him  —  and  —  make  him  take  a  bath,  and 
see  him  take  it. ' 

'  Take  a  bath  ! ' 

'  Yes,  at  once,  in  your  presence.  Then  ask  him 
.  .  .  any  questions  you  please,  but  pay  extreme 
attention  to  his  answers  and  his  face,  and  the  sound 
of  his  voice.  If  that  is  not  enough  do  the  same 
with  Batsy.  And  after  that  I  think  you  had  better 
not  let  the  children  out  of  your  sight  for  a  short  time. ' 

'  These  are  very  strange  requests.' 

'  And  it  was  by  a  strange  piece  of  luck  that  I  met 
you  driving  home  to  see  if  the  lost  children  were 


ADVENTURE   OF    THE    FIRST   CLIENTS      47 

found,  and  secured  your  attention  before  it  could  be 
pre-engaged. ' 

*  But  where  did  you  find  them  and  why ? ' 

Miss  Blossom  interrupted  him,  '  Here  is  the  ad- 
dress of  Dr.  Maitland,  I  have  written  it  on  my  own 
card;  he  can  answer  some  questions  you  may  want 
to  ask.  Later  I  will  answer  anything.  And  now 
in  the  name  of  God, '  said  the  girl  reverently,  with 
sudden  emotion,  '  you  will  keep  your  promise  to  the 
letter .? ' 

'  I  will,'  said  the  Major,  and  Miss  Blossom  waved 
her  parasol  to  the  children.  '  You  must  give  the 
poor  elephant  a  rest,  he  is  tired,'  she  cried,  and  the 
tender-hearted  Batsy  needed  no  more  to  make  her 
descend  from  the  great  earth-shaking  beast.  The 
children  attacked  her  with  kisses,  and  then  walked 
off,  looking  back,  each  holding  one  of  the  paternal 
hands,  and  treading,  after  the  manner  of  childhood, 
on  the  paternal  toes. 

Miss  Blossom  walked  till  she  met  an  opportune 
omnibus. 

About  an  hour  later  a  four-wheeler  bore  a  woman 
with  blazing  eyes,  and  a  pile  of  trunks  gaping 
untidily,  from  the  Major's  house  in  St.  John's 
Wood  Road. 

The  Honourable  Company  had  won  its  first  vic- 
tory: Major  Apsley,  having  fulfilled  Miss  Blossom's 
commands,  had  seen  what  she  expected  him  to  see, 
and  was  disentangled  from  Miss  Limmer. 

The  children  still  call  their  new  stepmother 
None-so-pretty. 


IV 

ADVENTURE  OF  THE   RICH   UNCLE 

*  T  TIS   God  is  his  belly,   Mr.   Graham,'  said  the 
1  J.     client,  'and   if  the  text  strikes  you  as  dis- 
agreeably unrefined,  think  how  it  must  pain  me  to 
speak  thus  of  an  uncle,  if  only  by  marriage. ' 

The  client  was  a  meagre  matron  of  forty-five,  or 
thereabouts.  Her  dark  scant  hair  was  smooth,  and 
divided  down  the  middle.  Acerbity  spoke  in  every 
line  of  her  face,  which  was  of  a  dusky  yellow, 
where  it  did  not  rather  verge  on  the  faint  hues  of  a 
violet  past  its  prime.  She  wore  thread  gloves,  and 
she  carried  a  battered  reticule  of  early  Victorian 
days,  in  which  Merton  suspected  that  tracts  were 
lurking.  She  had  an  anxious  peevish  mouth;  in 
truth  she  was  not  the  kind  of  client  in  whom  Mer- 
ton's  heart  delighted. 

And  yet  he  was  sorry  for  her,  especially  as  her 
rich  uncle's  cook  was  the  goddess  of  the  gentleman 
whose  god  had  just  been  denounced  in  scriptural 
terms  by  the  client,  a  Mrs.  Gisborne.  She  was  sad, 
as  well  she  might  be,  for  she  was  a  struggler,  with 
a  large  family,  and  great  expectations  from  the 
polytheistic  uncle  who  adored  his  cook  and  one  of 
his  nobler  organs, 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    RICH    UNCLE        49 

'What  has  his  history  been,  this  gentleman's  — 
Mr.  Fulton,  I  think  you  called  him? ' 

'He  was  a  drysalter  in  the  City,  sir,'  and  across 
Merton's  mind  flitted  a  vision  of  a  dark  shop  with 
Finnan  haddocks,  bacon,  and  tongues  in  the  win- 
dow, and  smelling  terribly  of  cheese. 

'Oh,  a  drysalter .-* '  he  said,  not  daring  to  display 
ignorance  by  asking  questions  to  corroborate  his 
theory  of  the  drysalting  business. 

'A  drysalter,  sir,  and  isinglass  importer.' 

Merton  was  conscious  of  vagueness  as  to  isinglass, 
and  was  distantly  reminded  of  a  celebrated  race- 
horse. However,  it  was  clear  that  Mr.  Fulton  was 
a  retired  tradesman  of  some  kind.  '  He  went  out  of 
isinglass  —  before  the  cheap  scientific  substitute 
was  invented  (it  is  made  out  of  old  quill  pens)  — 
with  seventy-five  thousand  pounds.  And  it  ought  to 
come  to  my  children.  He  has  not  another  relation 
living  but  ourselves;  he  married  my  aunt.  But  we 
never  see  him :  he  said  that  he  could  not  stand  our 
Sunday  dinners  at  Hampstead. ' 

A  feeling  not  remote  from  sympathy  with  Mr. 
Fulton  stole  over  Merton's  mind  as  he  pictured 
these  festivals.      *  Is  his  god  very  —  voluminous .-' ' 

Mrs.  Gisborne  stared. 

'  Is  he  a  very  portly  gentleman  \ ' 

'  No,  Mr.  Graham,  he  is  next  door  to  a  skeleton, 
though  you  would  not  expect  it,  considering.' 

'Considering  his  devotion  to  the  pleasures  of  the 
table }  ' 

'  Gluttony,  shameful  waste  /  call  it.  And  he  is 
a  stumbling  block  and  a  cause  of  offence  to  others. 

4 


50  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

He  is  a  patron  of  the  City  and  Suburban  College  of 
Cookery,  and  founded  two  scholarships  there,  for 
scholars  learning  how  to  pamper  the ' 

'The  epicure,'  said  Merton.  He  knew  the  City 
and  Suburban  College  of  Cookery.  One  of  his 
band,  a  Miss  Frere,  was  a  Fellow  and  Tutor  of  that 
academy. 

'  And  about  what  age  is  your  uncle .-' '  he  asked. 

'About  sixty,  and  not  a  white  hair  on  his  head.' 

'Then  he  may  marry  his  cook.? ' 

'  He  will,  sir. ' 

'And  is  very  likely  to  have  a  family.' 

Mrs.  Gisborne  sniffed,  and  produced  a  pocket 
handkerchief  from  the  early  Victorian  reticule. 
She  applied  the  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  in  si- 
lence. Merton  observed  her  with  pity,  '  We  need 
the  money  so;  there  are  so  many  of  us,'  said  the 
lady. 

'Do  you  think  that  Mr.  Fulton  is  —  passionately 
in  love,  with  his  domestic.'' ' 

'He  only  loves  his  meals,'  said  Mrs.  Gisborne; 
*  he  does  not  want  to  marry  her,  but  she  has  a  hold 
over  him  through  —  his ' 

'Passions,  not  of  the  heart,'  said  Merton  hastily. 
He  dreaded  an  anatomical  reference. 

'  He  is  afraid  of  losing  her.  He  and  his  cronies 
give  each  other  dinners,  jealous  of  each  other  they 
are ;  and  he  actually  pays  the  woman  two  hundred  a 
year. ' 

'And  beer  money.? '  said  Merton.  He  had  some- 
where read  or  heard  of  beer  money  as  an  item  in 
domestic  finance. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RICH   UNCLE        51 

'I  don't  know  about  that.  The  cruel  thing  is 
that  she  is  a  woman  of  strict  temperance  principles. 
So  am  I.  I  am  sure  it  is  an  awful  thing  to  say,  Mr. 
Graham,  but  Satan  has  sometimes  put  it  into  my 
heart  to  wish  that  the  woman,  like  too,  too  many  of 
her  sort,  was  the  victim  of  alcoholic  temptations. 
He  has  a  fearful  temper,  and  if  once  she  was  not  fit 
for  duty  at  one  of  his  dinners,  this  awful  gnawing 
anxiety  would  cease  to  ride  my  bosom.  He  would 
pack  her  off. ' 

'Very  natural.  She  is  free  from  the  besetting 
sin  of  the  artistic  temperament  ? ' 

'  If  you  mean  drink,  she  is ;  and  that  is  one  reason 
why  he   values  her.      His    last    cook,   and   his    last 

but    one '     Here    Mrs.    Gisborne    narrated    at 

some    length   the  tragic  histories  of  these   artists. 

'  Providential,  I  thought  it,  but  now , '  she  said 

despairingly. 

'She  certainly  seems  a  difficult  woman  to  dis- 
lodge,' said  Merton.  'A  dangerous  entanglement. 
Any  followers  allowed.'  Could  anything  be  done 
through  the  softer  emotions.'  Would  a  guardsman, 
for  instance ? ' 

'  She  hates  the  men.  Never  one  of  them  darkens 
her  kitchen  fire.  Ofifers  she  has  had  by  the  score, 
but  they  come  by  post,  and  she  laughs  and  burns 
them.  Old  Mr.  Potter,  one  of  his  cronies,  tried  to 
get  her  away  t/ia^  way,  but  he  is  over  seventy,  and 
old  at  that,  and  she  thought  she  had  another  chance 
to  better  herself.  And  she  '11  take  it,  Mr.  Graham, 
if  you  can't  do  something:  she  '11  take  it.' 

'Will  you  permit  me  to  say  that  you  seem  to  know 


54  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

a  good  deal  about  her !  Perhaps  you  hav^e  some 
sort  of  means  of  intelligence  in  the  enemy's  camp?  ' 

'  The  kitchen  maid,'  said  Mrs.  Gisborne,  purpling 
a  little,  '  is  the  sister  of  our  servant,  and  tells  her 
things.' 

'  I  see,'  said  Merton.  '  Now  can  you  remember 
any  little  weakness  of  this,  I  must  frankly  admit, 
admirable  artist  and  exemplary  woman?' 

'  You  are  not  going  to  take  her  side,  a  scheming 
red-faced  hussy,  Mr.  Graham?' 

'  I  never  betrayed  a  client.  Madam,  and  if  you 
mean  that  I  am  likely  to  help  this  person  into  your 
uncle's  arms,  you  greatly  misconceive  me,  and  the 
nature  of  my  profession.' 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  will  say  that  your 
heart  does  not  seem  to  be  in  the  case.' 

'  It  is  not  quite  the  kind  of  case  with  which  we 
are  accustomed  to  deal,'  said  Merton.  '  But  you 
liave  not  answered  my  question.  Are  there  any 
weak  points  in  the  defence?  To  Venus  she  is  cold, 
of  Bacchus  she  is  disdainful.' 

'  I  never  heard   of  the   gentlemen  I  am  sure,  sir, 

but  as  to  her  weaknesses,  she  has  the  temper  of  a ' 

Here  Mrs.  Gisborne  paused  for  a  comparison.  Her 
knowledge  of  natural  history  and  of  mythology,  the 
usual  sources  of  parallels,  failed  to  provide  a  satis- 
factory resemblance  to  the  cook's  temper. 

'  The  temper  of  a  Megaera,'  said  Merton,  admitting 
to  himself  that  the  word  was  not,  though  mythologi- 
cal, what  he  could  wish. 

'  Of  a  Megaera  as  you  know  that  creature,  sir,  and 
impetuous !     If   everything    is     not   handy,    if   that 


ADVENTURE   OF    THE   RICH   UNCLE        53 

poor  girl  is  not  like  clockwork  with  the  sauces,  and 
herbs,  and  things,  if  a  saucepan  boils  over,  or  a  ham 
falls  into  the  fire,  if  the  girl  treads  on  the  tail  of  one 
of  the  cats  —  and  the  woman  keeps  a  dozen — then 
she  flies  at  her  with  anything  that  comes  handy.' 

'She  is  fond  of  cats?'  said  Merton;  'really  this 
lady  has  sympathetic  points :  '  and  he  patted  the 
grey  Russian  puss,  Kutuzoft",  which  was  a  witness  to 
these  interviews. 

'  She  dotes  on  the  nasty  things:  and  you  may  well 
say  "  lady !  "  Her  Siamese  cat,  a  wild  beast  he  is, 
took  the  first  prize  at  the  Crystal  Palace  Show. 
The  papers  said  "  Miss  Blowser's  Rangoon,  bred  by 
the  exhibitor."  Miss  Blowser !  I  don't  know  what 
the  world  is  coming  to.  He  stands  on  the  door- 
steps, the  cat,  like  a  lynx,  and  as  fierce  as  a  lion. 
Why  he  got  her  into  the  police-court :  flew  at  a  dog, 
and  nearly  tore  his  owner,  a  clergyman,  to  pieces. 
There  were  articles  about  it  in  the  papers.' 

'  I  seem  to  remember  it,'  said  Merton.  *  Christianos 
ad  Leones.'  In  fact  he  had  written  this  humorous  ar- 
ticle himself  '  But  is  there  nothing  else?  '  he  asked. 
'  Only  a  temper,  so  natural  to  genius  disturbed  or 
diverted  in  the  process  of  composition,  and  a 
passion  for  the  felidae,  such  as  has  often  been 
remarked  in  the  great.  There  was  Charles  Baude- 
laire, Mahomet ' 

'  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  sir,  and,'  said  Mrs. 
Gisborne,  rising,  and  snapping  her  reticule,  '  I  think 
I  was  a  fool  for  answering  your  advertisement.  I 
did  not  come  here  to  be  laughed  at,  and  I  think 
common  politeness • ' 


54  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons/  said  Merton.  '  I  am 
most  distressed  at  my  apparent  discourtesy.  My 
mind  was  preoccupied  by  the  circumstances  of  this 
very  difficult  case,  and  involuntarily  glided  into  liter- 
ary anecdote  on  the  subject  of  cats  and  their  owners. 
They  are  my  passion  —  cats  —  and  I  regret  that  they 
inspire  you  with  antipathy.'  Here  he  picked  up 
Kutuzoff  and  carried  him  into  the  inner  room. 

'  It  is  not  that  I  object  to  any  of  Heaven's  crea- 
tures kept  in  their  place,'  said  Mrs.  Gisborne  some- 
what mollified,  *  but  you  must  make  allowances,  sir, 
for  my  anxiety.  It  sours  a  mother  of  nine.  Friday 
is  one  of  his  gorging  dinner-parties,  and  who  knows 
what  may  happen  if  she  pleases  him?  The  kitchen 
maid  says,  I  mean  I  hear,  that  she  wears  an  engaged 
ring  already. ' 

'That  is  very  bad,'  said  Merton,  with  sympathy. 
'The  dinner  is  on  Friday,  you  say?'  and  he  made 
a  note  of  the  date. 

'  Yes,  15  Albany  Grove,  on  the  Regent's  Canal.' 

'You  can  think  of  nothing  else  —  no  weakness  to 
work  on  ?  ' 

'  No,  sir,  just  her  awful  temper;  I  would  save  him 
from  it,  for  he  has  another  as  bad.  And  besides  hopes 
from  him  have  kept  me  up  so  long,  his  only  rela- 
tion, and  times  are  so  hard,  and  schooling  and  boots, 
and  everything  so  dear,  and  we  so  many  in  family.' 
Tears  came  into  the  poor  lady's  eyes. 

'  I  '11  give  the  case  my  very  best  attention,'  he  said, 
shaking  hands  with  the  client.  To  Merton's  horror 
she  tried.  Heaven  help  her,  to  pass  a  circular  packet, 
wrapped  in  paper,  into  his  hand.     He  evaded  it.     It 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   RICH   UNCLE        55 

was  a  first  interview,  for  which  no  charge  was  made. 
'What  can  be  done  shall  be  done,  though  I  confess 
that  I  do  not  see  my  way,'  and  he  accompanied  her 
downstairs  to  the  street. 

'  I  behaved  like  a  cad  with  my  chaff,'  he  said  to 
himself,  '  but  hang  me  if  I  see  how  to  help  her.  And 
I  rather  admire  that  cook.' 

He  went  into  the  inner  room,  wakened  the  sleeping 
partner,  Logan,  on  the  sofa,  and  unfolded  the  case 
with  every  detail.     '  What  can  we  do,  que  f aire  !' 

'  There 's  an  exhibition  of  modern,  mediaeval, 
ancient,  and  savage  cookery  at  Earl's  Court,  the 
Cookeries,'  said  Logan.  '  Could  n't  we  seduce  an 
artist  like  Miss  Blowser  there,  I  mean  thither  of 
course,  the  night  before  the  dinner,  and  get  her  up 
into  the  Great  Wheel  and  somehow  stop  the  Wheel 
—  and  make  her  too  late  for  her  duties?' 

'  And  how  are  you  going  to  stop  the  Wheel?  ' 

'Speak  to  the  Man  at  the  Wheel.  Bribe  the 
beggar.' 

'  Dangerous,  and  awfully  expensive.  Then  think 
of  all  the  other  people  on  the  Wheel !  Logan,  voiis 
chassez  de  race.  The  old  Restalrig  blood  is  in  your 
veins.' 

'  My  ancestors  nearly  nipped  off  with  a  king,  and 
why  can't  I  carry  off  a  cook  ?  Hustle  her  into  a 
hansom ' 

'  Oh,  bah  !  these  are  not  modern  methods.' 

'  //  tiy  a  rien  tcl  que  d'enlever'  said  Logan. 

'  I  never  shall  stain  the  cause  with  police-courts,' 
said  Merton.     '  It  would  be  fatal.' 

'  I  've  heard  of  a  cook  who  fell  on  his  sword  when 


56  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

the  fish  did  not  come  up  to  time.  Now  a  raid  on  the 
fish?  She  might  fall  on  her  carving  knife  when  they 
did  not  arrive,  or  leap  into  the  flames  of  the  kitchen 
fire,  like  CEnone,  don't  you  know.' 

'  Bosh.  Vatel  was  far  from  the  sea,  and  he  had 
not  a  fish-monger's  shop  round  the  corner.  Be 
modern.' 

Logan  rumpled  his  hair,  '  Can't  I  get  her  to  lunch 
at  a  restaurant  and  ply  her  with  the  wines  of  Eastern 
France?  No,  she  is  Temperance  personified.  Can't 
we  send  her  a  forged  telegram  to  say  that  her  mother 
is  dying?  Servants  seem  to  have  such  lots  of 
mothers,  always  inconveniently,  or  conveniently, 
moribund.' 

'  I  won't  have  forgery.  Great  heavens,  how  ob- 
solete you  are !  Besides,  that  would  not  put  her 
employer  in  a  rage.' 

'Could  I  go  and  consult ?'   he  mentioned  a 

specialist,     '  He  is  a  man  of  ideas.' 

'  He  is  a  man  of  the  purest  principles  —  and  an 
uncommonly  hard  hitter.' 

'  It  is  his  purity  I  want.  My  own  mind  is  heredi- 
tarily lawless.  I  want  something  not  immoral,  yet 
efficacious.  There  was  that  parson,  whom  you  say 
the  woman's  cat  nearly  devoured.  Like  Paul  with 
beasts  he  fought  the  cat.  Now,  I  wonder  if  that 
injured  man  is  not  meditating  some  priestly  re- 
venge that  would  do  our  turn  and  get  rid  of  Miss 
Blowser? ' 

Merton  shook  his  head  impatiently.  His  own 
invention  was  busy,  but  to  no  avail.  Miss  Blowser 
seemed    impregnable.     Kutuzoff  HedzofF,  the  puss, 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   RICH   UNCLE        57 

stalked  up  to  Logan  and  leaped  on  his  knees.  Logan 
stroked  him,  Kutuzofif  purred  and  blinked,  Logan 
sought  inspiration  in  his  topaz  eyes.  At  last  he 
spoke:  'Will  you  leave  this  affair  to  me,  Merton? 
I  think  I  have  found  out  a  way.' 

'  What  way  ?  ' 

'  That 's  my  secret.  You  are  so  beastly  moral, 
you  might  object.  One  thing  I  may  tell  you  —  it 
does  not  compromise  the  Honourable  Company  of 
Disentanglers.' 

*  You  are  not  going  to  try  any  detective  work ;  to 
find  out  if  she  is  a  woman  with  a  past,  with  a  husband 
living?  You  are  not  going  to  put  a  live  adder  among 
the  eels?  I  daresay  drysalters  eat  eels.  It  is  the 
reading  of  sensational  novels  that  ruins  our  youth.' 

*  What  a  suspicious  beggar  you  are.  Certainly  I 
am  neither  a  detective  nor  a  murderer  a  la  Montepin! 

'  No  practical  jokes  with  the  victuals?  ' 
'Of  course  not.' 

*  No  kidnapping  Miss  Blowser?  ' 
'Certainly  no  kidnapping — Miss  Blowser.' 
'Now,  honour  bright,  is  your  plan  within  the  law? 

No  police-court  publicity?' 

'No,  the  police  will  have  no  say  or  show  in  the 
matter;  at  least,'  said  Logan,  'as  far  as  my  legal 
studies  inform  me,  they  won't.  But  I  can  take 
counsel's  opinion  if  you  insist  on  it.' 

'  Then  you  are  sailing  near  the  wind? ' 

'  Really  I  don't  think  so :  not  really  what  you  call 
near.' 

'  I  am  sorry  for  that  unlucky  Mrs.  Gisborne,'  said 
Merton,  musingly.     '  And  with  two  such  tempers  as 


5  8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

the  cook's  and  Mr.  Fulton's  the  match  could  not  be 
a  happy  one.  Well,  Logan,  I  suppose  you  won't  tell 
me  what  your  game  is  ?  ' 

'  Better  not,  I  think,  but,  I  assure  you,  honour  is  safe. 
I  am  certain  that  nobody  can  say  anything.  I  rather 
expect  to  earn  public  gratitude,  on  the  whole.  You 
can't  appear  in  any  way,  nor  the  rest  of  us.  -By-the- 
bye  do  you  remember  the  address  of  the  parson  whose 
dog  was  hurt? ' 

*  I  think  I  kept  a  cutting  of  the  police  case ;  it 
was  amusing,'  said  Merton,  looking  through  a  kind 
of  album,  and  finding  presently  the  record  of  the 
incident. 

'  It  may  come  in  handy,  or  it  may  not,'  said  Logan. 
He  then  went  off,  and  had  Merton  followed  him  he 
might  not  have  been  reassured.  For  Logan  first 
walked  to  a  chemist's  shop,  where  he  purchased  a 
quantity  of  a  certain  drug.  Next  he  went  to  the 
fencing  rooms  which  he  frequented,  took  his  fencing 
mask  and  glove,  borrowed  a  fencing  glove  from  a 
left-handed  swordsman  whom  he  knew,  and  drove  to 
his  rooms  with  this  odd  assortment  of  articles.  Hav- 
ing deposited  them,  he  paid  a  call  at  the  dwelling  of 
a  fair  member  of  the  Disentanglers,  Miss  Frere,  the 
lady  instructress  in  the  culinary  art,  at  the  City  and 
Suburban  College  of  Cookery,  whereof,  as  we  have 
heard,  Mr.  Fulton,  the  eminent  drysalter,  was  a  patron 
and  visitor.  Logan  unfolded  the  case  and  his  plan 
of  campaign  to  Miss  Frere,  who  listened  with  intelli- 
gent sympathy. 

'  Do  you  know  the  man  by  sight? '  he  asked. 

'  Oh  yes,  and  he  knows  me  perfectly  well.     Last 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   RICH   UNCLE        59 

year  he  distributed  the  prizes  at  the  City  and  Subur- 
ban School  of  Cookery,  and  paid  me  the  most  ex- 
traordinary compliments.' 

'  Well  deserved,  I  am  confident,'  said  Logan  ;  '  and 
now  you  are  sure  that  you  know  exactly  what  you 
have  to  do,  as  I  have  explained  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  am  to  be  walking  through  Albany  Grove 
at  a  quarter  to  four  on  Friday.' 

'  Be  punctual.' 

'  You  may  rely  on  me,'  said  Miss  Frere. 

Logan  next  day  went  to  Trevor's  rooms  in  the 
Albany;  he  was  the  capitalist  who  had  insisted  on 
helping  to  finance  the  Disentanglers.  To  Trevor  he 
explained  the  situation,  unfolded  his  plan,  and  asked 
leave  to  borrow  his  private  hansom. 

'  Delighted,'  said  Trevor.  '  I  '11  put  on  an  old  suit 
of  tweeds,  and  a  seedy  bowler,  and  drive  you  myself. 
It  will  be  fun.     Or  should  we  take  my  motor  car? ' 

'No,  it  attracts  too  much  attention.' 

'Suppose  we  put  a  number  on  my  cab,  and  paint 
the  wheels  yellow,  like  pirates,  you  know,  when  they 
are  disguising  a  captured  ship.  It  won't  do  to  look 
like  a  private  cab.' 

'These  strike  me  as  judicious  precautions,  Trevor, 
and  worthy  of  your  genius.  That  is,  if  we  are  not 
caught.' 

'  Oh,  we  won't  be  caught,'  said  Trevor,  *  But,  in 
the  meantime,  let  us  find  that  place  you  mean  to  go 
to  on  a  map  of  London,  and  I  '11  drive  you  there  now 
in  a  dog-cart.     It  is  better  to  know  the  lie  of  the  land.' 

Logan  agreed  and  they  drove  to  his  objective  in 
the  afternoon;    it  was  beyond  the  border  of  known 


6o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

West  Hammersmith.     Trevor  reconnoitred  and  made 
judicious  notes  of  short  cuts. 

On  the  following  day,  which  was  Thursday,  Logan 
had  a  difficult  piece  of  diplomacy  to  execute.  He 
called  at  the  rooms  of  the  clergyman,  a  bachelor  and 
a  curate,  whose  dog  and  person  had  suffered  from  the 
assaults  of  Miss  Blowser's  Siamese  favourite.  He  ex- 
pected difficulties,  for  a  good  deal  of  ridicule,  includ- 
ing Merton's  article,  Christianos  ad  Leones,  had  been 
heaped  on  this  martyr.  Logan  looked  forward  to 
finding  him  crusty,  but,  after  seeming  a  little  puzzled, 
the  holy  man  exclaimed,  '  Why,  you  must  be  Logan 
of  Trinity?' 

'  The  same,'  said  Logan,  who  did  not  remember 
the  face  or  name  (which  was  Wilkinson)  of  his  host. 

'  Why,  I  shall  never  forget  your  running  catch  under 
the  scoring-box  at  Lord's,'  exclaimed  Mr.  Wilkinson, 
*  I  can  see  it  now.  It  saved  the  match.  I  owe  you 
more  than  I  can  say,'  he  added  with  deep  emotion. 

'  Then  be  grateful,  and  do  me  a  little  favour.  I 
want — just  for  an  hour  or  two  —  to  borrow  your 
dog,'  and  he  stooped  to  pat  the  animal,  a  fox-terrier 
bearing  recent  and  glorious  scars. 

'  Borrow  Scout !  Why,  what  can  you  want  with 
him  ? ' 

'I  have  suffered  myself  through  an  infernal  wild 
beast  of  a  cat  in  Albany  Grove,'  said  Logan, '  and  I  have 
a  scheme  —  it  is  unchristian  I  own  —  of  revenge.' 

The  curate's  eyes  glittered  vindictively:  'Scout  is 
no  match  for  the  brute,'  he  said  in  a  tone  of  manly 
regret. 

'  Oh,  Scout  will  be  all  right.     There  is  not  going  to 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    RICH    UNCLE        6i 

be  a  fight.  He  is  only  needed  to  —  give  tone  to  the 
affair.  You  will  be  able  to  walk  him  safely  through 
Albany  Grove  after  to-morrow.' 

'Won't  there  be  a  row  if  you  kill  the  cat?  He  is 
what  they  think  a  valuable  animal.  I  never  could 
stand  cats  myself.' 

'  The  higher  vermin,'  said  Logan.  *  But  not  a  hair 
of  his  whiskers  shall  be  hurt.  He  will  seek  other 
haunts,  that 's  all.' 

*  But  you  don't  mean  to  steal  him?  '  asked  the  cur- 
ate anxiously.  '  You  see,  suspicion  might  fall  on  me, 
as  I  am  known  to  bear  a  grudge  to  the  brute.' 

'  I  steal  him  !  Not  I,'  said  Logan.  '  He  shall  sleep 
in  his  owner's  arms,  if  she  likes.  But  Albany  Grove 
shall  know  him  no  more.' 

'  Then  you  may  take  Scout,'  said  Mr.  Wilkinson. 
*  You  have  a  cab  there,  shall  I  drive  to  your  rooms 
with  you  and  him?' 

*  Do,'  said  Logan,  '  and  then  dine  at  the  club.' 
Which  they  did,  and  talked  much  cricket,  Mr, 
Wilkinson  being  an  enthusiast. 

Next  day,  about  3.40  P.M.,  a  hansom  drew  up  at 
the  corner  of  Albany  Grove.  The  fare  alighted,  and 
sauntered  past  Mr.  Fulton's  house.  Rangoon,  the 
Siamese  puss,  was  sitting  in  a  scornful  and  leonine 
attitude,  in  a  tree  of  the  garden  above  the  railings, 
outside  the  open  kitchen  windows,  whence  came 
penetrating  and  hospitable  smells  of  good  fare.  The 
stranger  passed,  and  as  he  returned,  dropped  some- 
thing here  and  there  on  the  pavement.  It  was  vale- 
rian, which  no  cat  can  resist. 


62  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Miss  Blovvser  was  in  a  culinary  crisis,  and  could 
not  leave  the  kitchen  range.  Her  face  was  of  a  fiery 
complexion ;  her  locks  were  in  a  fine  disorder.  '  Is 
Rangoon  in  his  place,  Mary?  '  she  inquired  of  the 
kitchen  maid. 

'  Yes,  ma'am,  in  his  tree,'  said  the  maid. 

In  this  tree  Rangoon  used  to  sit  like  a  Thug,  drop- 
ping down  on  dogs  who  passed  by. 

Presently  the  maid  said,  '  Ma'am,  Rangoon  has 
jumped  down,  and  is  walking  off  to  the  right,  after 
a  gentleman.' 

*  After  a  sparrow,  I  dare  say,  bless  him,'  said  Miss 
Blowser.  Two  minutes  later  she  asked,  '  Has  Rangy 
come  back? ' 

'  No,  ma'am.' 

'  Just  look  out  and  see  what  he  is  doing,  the 
dear.' 

'  He  's  walking  along  the  pavement,  ma'am,  sniff- 
ing at  something.  And  oh  !  there  's  that  curate's 
dog.' 

'  Yelping  little  brute  !  I  hope  Rangy  will  give  him 
snuff,'  said  Miss  Blowser. 

'  He  's  flown  at  him,'  cried  the  maid  ambiguously, 
in  much  excitement.  'Oh,  ma'am,  the  gentleman 
has  caught  hold  of  Rangoon.  He 's  got  a  wire 
mask  on  his  face,  and  great  thick  gloves,  not  to  be 
scratched.  He 's  got  Rangoon :  he's  putting  him  in 
a  bag,'  but  by  this  time  Miss  Blowser,  brandishing  a 
saucepan  with  a  long  handle,  had  rushed  out  of  the 
kitchen,  through  the  little  garden,  cannoned  against 
Mr.  Fulton,  who  happened  to  be  coming  in  with 
flowers  to  decorate  his  table,  knocked  him  against  a 


A   MAN   DISAPPEARING   INTO   A    HANSOM. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   RICH   UNCLE       63 

lamp-post,  opened  the  garden  gate,  and,  armed  and 
bareheaded  as  she  was,  had  rushed  forth.  You  might 
have  deemed  that  you  beheld  Bellona  speeding  to  the 
fray. 

What  Miss  Blowser  saw  was  a  man  disappearing 
into  a  hansom,  whence  came  the  yapping  of  a  dog. 
Another  cab  was  loitering  by,  empty ;  and  this  cab- 
man had  his  orders.  Logan  had  seen  to  that.  To 
hail  that  cab,  to  leap  in,  to  cry,  '  Follow  the  scoun- 
drel in  front:  a  sovereign  if  you  catch  him,'  was  to 
the  active  Miss  Blowser  the  work  of  a  moment.  The 
man  whipped  up  his  horse,  the  pursuit  began,  '  there 
was  racing  and  chasing  on  Cannobie  Lee,'  Marylebone 
rang  with  the  screams  of  female  rage  and  distress. 
Mr.  Fulton,  he  also,  leaped  up  and  rushed  in  pursuit, 
wringing  his  hands.  He  had  no  turn  of  speed,  and 
stopped  panting.  He  only  saw  Miss  Blowser  whisk 
into  her  cab,  he  only  heard  her  yells  that  died  in  the 
distance.  Mr.  Fulton  sped  back  into  his  house.  He 
shouted  for  Mary:  'What's  the  matter  with  your 
mistress,  with  my  cook?'  he  raved. 

'  Somebody  's  taken  her  cat,  sir,  and  is  off  in  a  cab, 
and  her  after  him.' 

'  After  her  cat !     D her  cat,'  cried  Mr.  Fulton. 

'  My  dinner  will  be  ruined  !  It  is  the  last  she  shall 
touch  in  this  house.  Out  she  packs  —  pack  her  things, 
Mary;  no,  don't — do  what  you  can  in  the  kitchen.  I 
must  find  a  cook.  Her  cat !  '  and  with  language  un- 
worthy of  a  drysalter  Mr.  Fulton  clapped  on  his  hat, 
and  sped  into  the  street,  with  a  vague  idea  of  hurry- 
ing to  Fortnum  and  Mason's,  or  some  restaurant,  or  a 
friend's  house,  indeed  \.o  any  conceivable  place  where 


64  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

a  cook  might  be  recruited  impromptu.  '  She  leaves 
this  very  day,'  he  said  aloud,  as  he  all  but  collided 
with  a  lady,  a  quiet,  cool-looking  lady,  who  stopped 
and  stared  at  him. 

'  Oh,  Miss  Frere  ! '  said  Mr.  Fulton,  raising  his  hat, 
with  a  wild  gleam  of  hope  in  the  trouble  of  his  eyes, 
'  I  have  had  such  a  misfortune !  ' 

'What  has  happened,  Mr.  Fulton?  ' 

*  Oh,  ma'am,  I  've  lost  my  cook,  and  me  with  a 
dinner-party  on  to-day.' 

*  Lost  your  cook?     Not  by  death,  I  hope?  ' 

'  No,  ma'am,  she  has  run  away,  in  the  very  crisis, 
as  I  may  call  it.' 

'  With  whom  ?  ' 

'With  nobody.  After  her  cat.  In  a  cab.  I  am 
undone.  Where  can  I  find  a  cook?  You  may  know 
of  some  one  disengaged,  though  it  is  late  in  the  day, 
and  dinner  at  seven.     Can't  you  help  me? ' 

'  Can  you  trust  me,  Mr.  Fulton  ? ' 

'  Trust  you  ;  how,  ma'am?  ' 

'  Let  me  cook  your  dinner,  at  least  till  your  cook 
catches  her  cat,'  said  Miss  Frere,  smiling. 

'  You,  don't  mean  it,  a  lady  !  ' 

'  But  a  professed  cook,  Mr.  Fulton,  and  anxious  to 
help  so  nobly  generous  a  patron  of  the  art  .  .  .  if 
you  can  trust  me.' 

*  Trust  you,  ma'am  !  '  said  Mr.  Fulton,  raising  to 
heaven  his  obsecrating  hands.  *  Why,  you  're  a  genius. 
It  is  a  miracle,  a  mere  miracle  of  good  luck.' 

By  this  time,  of  course,  a  small  crowd  of  little 
boys  and  girls,  amateurs  of  dramatic  scenes,  was 
gathering. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RICH   UNCLE        65 

'We  have  no  time  to  waste,  Mr.  Fulton.  Let 
us  go  in,  and  let  me  get  to  work.  I  dare  say 
the  cook  will  be  back  before  I  have  taken  ofif  my 
gloves.' 

'  Not  her,  nor  does  she  cook  again  in  my  house. 
The  shock  might  have  killed  a  man  of  my  age,'  said 
Mr,  Fulton,  breathing  heavily,  and  leading  the  way 
up  the  steps  to  his  own  door.  '  Her  cat,  the  hussy !  ' 
he  grumbled. 

Mr.  Fulton  kept  his  word.  When  Miss  Blowser 
returned,  with  her  saucepan  and  Rangoon,  she 
found  her  trunks  in  the  passage,  corded  by  Mr. 
Fulton's  own  trembling  hands,  and  she  departed 
for  ever. 

Her  chase  had  been  a  stern  chase,  a  long  chase, 
the  cab  driven  by  Trevor  had  never  been  out  of 
sight.  It  led  her,  in  the  western  wilds,  to  a  Home  for 
Decayed  and  Destitute  Cats,  and  it  had  driven  away 
before  she  entered  the  lane  leading  to  the  Home. 
But  there  she  found  Rangoon.  He  had  just  been 
deposited  there,  in  a  seedy  old  traveller's  fur-lined 
sleeping  bag,  the  matron  of  the  Home  averred,  by  a 
very  pleasant  gentleman,  who  said  he  had  found  the 
cat  astray,  lost,  and  thinking  him  a  rare  and  valu- 
able animal  had  deemed  it  best  to  deposit  him  at  the 
Home.  He  had  left  money  to  pay  for  advertisements. 
He  had  even  left  the  advertisement,  typewritten  (by 
Miss  Blossom). 

'  FOUND.  A  magnificent  Siamese  Cat.  Apply  to 
the  Home  for  Destitute  and  Decayed  Cats,  Water 
Lane,  West  Hammersmith.' 

'  Very  thoughtful  of  the  gentleman,'  said  the  matron 
5 


66  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

of  the  Home,  *  No ;  he  did  not  leave  any  address. 
Said  something  about  doing  good  by  stealth.' 

'  Stealth,  why  he  stole  my  cat !  '  exclaimed  Miss 
Blowser.  '  He  must  have  had  the  advertisement 
printed  like  that  ready  beforehand.  It 's  a  conspiracy,' 
and  she  brandished  her  saucepan. 

The  matron,  who  was  prejudiced  in  favour  of 
Logan,  and  his  two  sovereigns,  which  now  need  not 
be  expended  in  advertisements,  was  alarmed  by  the 
hostile  attitude  of  Miss  Blowser,  '  There  's  your  cat,* 
she  said  drily ;  '  it  ain't  stealing  a  cat  to  leave  it,  with 
money  for  its  board,  and  to  pay  for  advertisements, 
in  a  well-conducted  charitable  institution,  with  a 
duchess  for  president.  And  he  even  left  five  shillings 
to  pay  for  the  cab  of  anybody  as  might  call  for  the 
cat.     There  is  your  money,' 

Miss  Blowser  threw  the  silver  away. 

'  Take  your  old  cat  in  the  bag,'  said  the  matron, 
slamming  the  door  in  the  face  of  Miss  Blowser. 

After  the  trial  for  breach  of  promise  of  marriage, 
and  after  paying  the  very  considerable  damages  which 
Miss  Blowser  demanded  and  received,  old  Mr,  Fulton 
hardened  his  heart,  and  engaged  a  male  c/ief. 

The  gratitude  of  Mrs.  Gisborne,  now  free  from  all 
anxiety,  was  touching.  But  Merton  assured  her  that 
he  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  stratagem,  scarcely 
a  worthy  one,  he  thought,  as  she  reported  it,  by 
which  her  uncle  was  disentangled. 

It  was  Logan's  opinion,  and  it  is  mine,  that  he  had 
not  been  guilty  of  theft,  but  perhaps  of  the  wrongous 
detention  or  imprisonment  of  Rangoon,     '  But,'  he 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   RICH   UNCLE        67 

said,  '  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  has  no  clause  about 
cats,  and  in  Scottish  law,  which  is  good  enough  for 
me,  there  is  no  property  in  cats.  You  can't,  legally, 
steal  them.' 

'How  do  you  know?'  asked  Merton. 

*  I  took  the  opinion  of  an  eminent  sheriff  sub- 
stitute.' 

'What  is  that?' 

'  Oh,  a  fearfully  swagger  legal  official :  you  have 
nothing  Uke  it.' 

'  Rum  country,  Scotland,'  said  Merton. 

'  Rum  country,  England,'  said  Logan,  indignantly. 
'  You  have  no  property  in  corpses.' 

Merton  was  silenced. 

Neither  could  foresee  how  momentous,  to  each  of 
them,  the  question  of  property  in  corpses  was  to 
prove.     O  pectora  cceca! 

Miss  Blowser  is  now  Mrs.  Potter.  She  married 
her  aged  wooer,  and  Rangoon  still  wins  prizes  at  the 
Crystal  Palace. 


V 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE   SCREEN 

IT  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  all  the  enterprises 
of  the  Company  of  Disentanglers  were  fortunate. 
Nobody  can  command  success,  though,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  number  of  persons,  civil  and  military,  are 
able  to  keep  her  at  a  distance  with  surprising  uni- 
formity. There  was  one  class  of  business  which 
Merton  soon  learned  to  renounce  in  despair,  just  as 
some  sorts  of  maladies  defy  our  medical  science. 

'  It  is  curious,  and  not  very  creditable  to  our 
chemists,'  Merton  said,  '  that  love  philtres  were 
once  as  common  as  seidlitz  powders,  while  now  we 
have  lost  that  secret.  The  wrong  persons  might 
drink  love  philtres,  as  in  the  case  of  Tristram  and 
Iseult.  Or  an  unskilled  rural  practitioner  might  send 
out  the  wrong  drug,  as  in  the  instance  of  Lucretius, 
who  went  mad  in  consequence.' 

'  Perhaps,'  remarked  Logan,  '  the  chemist  was  vot- 
ing at  the  Comitia,  and  it  was  his  boy  who  made  a 
mistake  about  the  mixture.' 

'  Very  probably,  but  as  a  rule,  the  love  philtres 
worked.  Now,  with  all  our  boasted  progress,  the 
secret  is  totally  lost.  Nothing  but  a  love  philtre 
would  be  of  any  use  in  some  cases.  There  is  Lord 
Methusalem,  eighty  if  he  is  a  day.' 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE  SCREEN  69 

'  Methusalem  has  been  unco  **  wastefu'  in  wives  "  ! ' 
said  Logan. 

'  His  family  have  been  consulting  me  —  the  women 
in  tears.  He  will  marry  his  grandchildren's  German 
governess,  and  there  is  nothing  to  be  done.  In  such 
cases  nothing  is  ever  to  be  done.  You  can  easily  dis- 
tract an  aged  man's  volatile  affections,  and  attach 
them  to  a  new  charmer.  But  she  is  just  as  ineligible 
as  the  first ;  marry  he  will,  always  a  young  woman. 
Now  if  a  respectable  virgin  or  widow  of,  say,  fifty, 
could  hand  him  a  love  philtre,  and  gain  his  heart, 
appearances  would,  more  or  less,  be  saved.  But, 
short  of  philtres,  there  is  nothing  to  be  done.  We 
turn  away  a  great  deal  of  business  of  that  sort.' 

The  Society  of  Disentanglers,  then,  reluctantly  aban- 
doned dealings  in  this  class  of  affairs. 

In  another  distressing  business,  Merton,  as  a  pa- 
triot, was  obliged  to  abandon  an  attractive  enterprise. 
The  Marquis  of  Seakail  was  serving  his  country  as  a 
volunteer,  and  had  been  mentioned  in  despatches. 
But,  to  the  misery  of  his  family,  he  had  entangled 
himself,  before  his  departure,  with  a  young  lady  who 
taught  in  a  high  school  for  girls.  Her  character  was 
unimpeachable,  her  person  graceful ;  still,  as  her  father 
was  a  butcher,  the  duke  and  duchess  were  reluctant 
to  assent  to  the  union.  They  consulted  Merton,  and 
assured  him  that  they  would  not  flinch  from  expense. 
A  great  idea  flashed  across  Merton's  mind.  He 
might  send  out  a  stalwart  band  of  Disentanglers, 
who,  disguised  as  the  enemy,  might  capture  Seakail, 
and  carry  him  off  prisoner  to  some  retreat  where  the 
fairest  of  his  female  staff  (of  course  with  a  suitable 


70  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

chaperon),  would  await  him  in  the  character  of  a 
daughter  of  the  hostile  race.  The  result  would 
probably  be  to  detach  Seakail's  heart  from  his  love 
in  England.  But  on  reflection,  Merton  felt  that  the 
scheme  was  unworthy  of  a  patriot. 

Other  painful  cases  occurred.  One  lady,  a  mother, 
of  resolute  character,  consulted  Merton  on  the  case 
of  her  son.  He  was  betrothed  to  an  excitable  girl, 
a  neighbour  in  the  country,  who  wrote  long  literary 
letters  about  Mr.  George  Meredith's  novels,  and 
(when  abroad)  was  a  perfect  Baedeker,  or  Murray, 
or  Mr.  Augustus  Hare :  instructing  through  corre- 
spondence. So  the  matron  complained,  but  this  was 
not  the  worst  of  it.  There  was  an  unhappy  family 
history,  of  a  kind  infinitely  more  common  in  fiction 
than  in  real  life.  To  be  explicit,  even  according  to 
the  ideas  of  the  most  abject  barbarians,  the  young 
people,  unwittingly,  were  too  near  akin  for  matrimony. 

*  There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  tell  both  of  them  the 
truth,'  said  Merton.  '  This  is  not  a  case  in  which  we 
can  be  concerned.' 

The  resolute  matron  did  not  take  his  counsel.  The 
man  was  told,  not  the  girl,  who  died  in  painful  circum- 
stances, still  writing.  Her  letters  were  later  given  to 
the  world,  though  obviously  not  intended  for  publi- 
cation, and  only  calculated  to  waken  unavailing  grief 
among  the  sentimental,  and  to  make  the  judicious 
tired.  There  was,  however,  a  case  in  which  Merton 
may  be  said  to  have  succeeded  by  a  happy  accident. 
Two  visitors,  ladies,  were  ushered  into  his  consulting 
room ;  they  were  announced  as  Miss  Baddeley  and 
Miss  Crofton. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   OFFICE   SCREEN     71 

Miss  Baddeley  was  attired  in  black,  wore  a  thick 
veil,  and  trembled  a  good  deal.  Miss  Crofton,  whose 
dress  was  a  combination  of  untoward  but  decisive 
hues,  and  whose  hat  was  enormous  and  flamboyant, 
appeared  to  be  the  other  young  lady's  confidante,  and 
conducted  the  business  of  the  interview. 

'  My  dear  friend,  Miss  Baddeley,'  she  began,  when 
Miss  Baddeley  took  her  hand,  and  held  it,  as  if  for 
protection  and  sympathy.  '  My  dear  friend,'  repeated 
Miss  Crofton,  '  has  asked  me  to  accompany  her,  and 
state  her  case.  She  is  too  highly  strung  to  speak  for 
herself 

Miss  Baddeley  wrung  Miss  Crofton's  hand,  and 
visibly  quivered. 

Merton  assumed  an  air  of  sympathy.  '  The  situa- 
tion is  grave?'  he  asked. 

'  My  friend,'  said  Miss  Crofton,  thoroughly  en- 
joying herself,  '  is  the  victim  of  passionate  and 
unavailing  remorse,  are  you  not,  Julia?' 

Julia  nodded. 

'  Deeply  as  I  sympathise,'  said  Merton,  '  it  appears 
to  me  that  I  am  scarcely  the  person  to  consult.  A 
mother  now ' 

'  Julia  has  none.' 

'  Or  a  father  or  sister? ' 

'  But  for  me,  Julia  is  alone  in  the  world.' 

'  Then,'  said  Merton,  '  there  are  many  periodi- 
cals especially  intended  for  ladies.  There  is  The 
Woman  of  the  World,  The  Girl's  Giiardian  Angel, 
Fashion  and  Passion,  and  so  on.  The  Editors,  in 
their  columns,  reply  to  questions  in  cases  of  con- 
science.     I  have  myself  read  the  replies  to   Corre- 


72  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

spondents,  and  would  especially  recommend  those 
published  in  a  serial  conducted  by  Miss  Annie 
Swan.' 

Miss  Crofton  shook  her  head. 

*  Miss  Baddeley's  social  position  is  not  that  of  the 
people  who  are  answered  in  periodicals.' 

'  Then  why  does  she  not  consult  some  discreet  and 
learned  person,  her  spiritual  director?  Remorse 
(entirely  due,  no  doubt,  to  a  conscience  too  deli- 
cately sensitive)  is  not  in  our  line  of  affairs.  We 
only  advise  in  cases  of  undesirable  matrimonial 
engagements.' 

'  So  we  are  aware,'  said  Miss  Crofton.  '  Dear 
Julia  is  engaged,  or  rather  entangled,  in  —  how  many 
cases,  dear?  ' 

Julia  shook  her  head  and  sobbed  behind  her  veil. 

*  Is  it  one,  Julia  —  nod  when  I  come  to  the  exact 
number  —  two?  three?  four?' 

At  the  word  '  four '  Julia  nodded  assent. 

Merton  very  much  wished  that  Julia  would  raise 
her  veil.  Her  figure  was  excellent,  and  with  so 
many  sins  of  this  kind  on  her  remorseful  head,  her 
face,  Merton  thought,  must  be  worth  seeing.  The 
case  was  new.  As  a  rule,  clients  wanted  to  disen- 
tangle their  friends  and  relations.  TJiis  client  wanted 
to  disentangle  herself. 

'This  case,'  said  Merton,  'will  be  difficult  to  con- 
duct, and  the  expenses  would  be  considerable.  I  can 
hardly  advise  you  to  incur  them.  Our  ordinary 
method  is  to  throw  in  the  way  of  one  or  other  of  the 
engaged,  or  entangled  persons,  some  one  who  is  likely 
to  distract  their  affections;  of  course,'  he  added,  'to 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE  SCREEN  73 

a  more  eligible  object.  How  can  I  hope  to  find  an 
object  more  eligible,  Miss  Crofton,  than  I  must  con- 
ceive your  interesting  friend  to  be  ? ' 

Miss  Crofton  caressingly  raised  Julia's  veil.  Before 
the  victim  of  remorse  could  bury  her  face  in  her  hands, 
Merton  had  time  to  see  that  it  was  a  very  pretty  one. 
Julia  was  dark,  pale,  with  '  eyes  like  billiard  balls  '  (as 
a  celebrated  amateur  once  remarked),  with  a  beauti- 
ful mouth,  but  with  a  somewhat  wildly  enthusiastic 
expression. 

•How  can  I  hope?'  Merton  went  on,  'to  find  a 
worthier  and  more  attractive  object?  Nay,  how  can 
I  expect  to  secure  the  services  not  of  one,  but  of 
four ' 

'Three  would  do,  Mr.  Merton,'  explained  Miss 
Crofton.     '  Is  it  not  so,  JuHa  dearest?  ' 

Julia  again  nodded  assent,  and  a  sob  came  from 
behind  the  veil,  which  she  had  resumed. 

'Even  three,'  said  Merton,  gallantly  struggling 
with  a  strong  inclination  to  laugh,  '  present  difficul- 
ties. I  do  not  speak  the  idle  language  of  compli- 
ment, Miss  Crofton,  when  I  say  that  our  staff  would 
be  overtaxed  by  the  exigencies  of  this  case.  The 
expense  also,  even  of  three ' 

'  Expense  is  no  object, '  said  Miss  Crofton. 

'  But  would  it  not,  though  I  seem  to  speak  against 
my  own  interests,  be  the  wisest,  most  honourable,  and 
infinitely  the  least  costly  course,  for  Miss  Baddeley 
openly  to  inform  her  suitors,  three  out  of  the  four  at 
least,  of  the  actual  posture  of  affairs?  I  have  already 
suggested  that,  as  the  lady  takes  the  matter  so  seri- 
ously to  heart,  she  should  consult  her  director,  or, 


74  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

if  of  the  Anglican  or  other  Protestant  denomina- 
tion, her  clergyman,  who  I  am  sure  will  agree  with 
me.' 

Miss  Crofton  shook  her  head.  '  Julia  is  unattached,' 
she  said. 

*  I  had  gathered  that  to  one  of  the  four  Miss 
Baddeley  was  —  not  indifferent,'  said  Merton. 

'  I  meant,'  said  Miss  Crofton  severely,  '  that  Miss 
Baddeley  is  a  Christian  unattached.  My  friend  is 
sensitive,  passionate,  and  deeply  religious,  but  not 
a  member  of  any  recognised  denomination.  The 
clergy ' 

*  They  never  leave  one  alone,'  said  Julia  in  a  musi- 
cal voice.  It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  spoken. 
'Besides '  she  added,  and  paused. 

*  Besides,  dear  Julia  zs — entangled  with  a  young 
clergyman  whom,  almost  in  despair,  she  consulted  on 
her  case  —  at  a  picnic,'  said  Miss  Crofton,  adding,  '  he 
is  prepared  to  seek  a  martyr's  fate,  but  he  insists  that 
she  must  accompany  him.' 

'  How  unreasonable  ! '  murmured  Merton,  who  felt 
that  this  recalcitrant  clergyman  was  probably  not  the 
favourite  out  of  the  field  of  four. 

'  That  is  what  /  say,'  remarked  Miss  Crofton.  '  It 
is  unreasonable  to  expect  Julia  to  accompany  him 
when  she  has  so  much  work  to  overtake  in  the  home 
field.     But  that  is  the  way  with  all  of  them.' 

'  All  of  them  ! '  exclaimed  Merton.  *  Are  all  the 
devoted  young  men  under  vows  to  seek  the  crown  of 
martyrdom  ?  Does  your  friend  act  as  recruiting  ser- 
geant, if  you  will  pardon  the  phrase,  for  the  noble 
army  of  martyrs?' 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE  SCREEN  75 

'  Three  of  them  have  made  the  most  solemn 
promises.' 

'And  the  fourth?' 

^  He  is  not  in  holy  orders.' 

'  Am  I  to  understand  that  all  the  three  admirers 
about  whom  Miss  Baddeley  suffers  remorse  are 
clerics? ' 

'  Yes.  Julia  has  a  wonderful  attraction  for  the 
Church,'  said  Miss  Crofton,  'and  that  is  what  causes 
her  difficulties.  She  can't  write  to  them,  or  com- 
municate to  them  in  personal  interviews  (as  you 
advised),  that  her  heart  is  no  longer ' 

'  Theirs,'  said  Merton.  '  But  why  are  the  clergy 
more  privileged  than  the  laity?  I  have  heard  of 
such  things  being  broken  to  laymen.  Indeed  it  has 
occurred  to  many  of  us,  and  we  yet  live.' 

'  I  have  urged  the  same  facts  on  Julia  myself,'  said 
Miss  Crofton.  '  Indeed  I  know,  by  personal  experi- 
ence, that  what  you  say  of  the  laity  is  true.  They 
do  not  break  their  hearts  when  disappointed.  But  Julia 
replies  that  for  her  to  act  as  you  and  I  would  advise 
might  be  to  shatter  the  young  clergymen's  ideals.' 

'  To  shatter  the  ideals  of  three  young  men  in  holy 
orders  !  '  said  Merton. 

'Yes,  for  Julia  is  their  ideal  —  Julia  and  Duty,'  said 
Miss  Crofton,  as  if  she  were  naming  a  firm.  '  She 
lives  only,'  here  Julia  twisted  the  hand  of  Miss  Crof- 
ton, 'she  lives  only  to  do  good.  Her  fortune,  entirely 
under  her  own  control,  enables  her  to  do  a  great  deal 
of  good.' 

Merton  began  to  understand  that  the  charms  of 
Julia  were  not  entirely  confined  to  her  beatix  yenx. 


76  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  She  is  a  true  philanthropist.  Why,  she  rescued 
me  from  the  snares  and  temptations  of  the  stage,'  said 
Miss  Crofton. 

'  Oh,  Jiow  I  understand,'  said  Merton ;  '  I  knew 
that  your  face  and  voice  were  familiar  to  me.  Did 
you  not  act  in  a  revival  of  The  Country  Wife? ' 

'  Hush,'  said  Miss  Crofton. 

'  And  Lady  Teazle  at  an  amateur  performance  in 
the  Canterbury  week? ' 

'  These  are  days  of  which  I  do  not  desire  to  be 
reminded,'  said  Miss  Crofton.  '  I  was  trying  to  ex- 
plain to  you  that  Julia  lives  to  do  good,  and  has  a 
heart  of  gold.  No,  my  dear,  Mr.  Merton  will  much 
misconceive  you  unless  you  let  me  explain  every- 
thing.' This  remark  was  in  reply  to  the  agitated 
gestures  of  Julia.  '  Thrown  much  among  the  younger 
clergy  in  the  exercise  of  her  benevolence,  Julia  nat- 
urally awakens  in  them  emotions  not  wholly  broth- 
erly. Her  sympathetic  nature  carries  her  off  her 
feet,  and  she  sometimes  says  "  Yes,"  out  of  mere 
goodness  of  heart,  when  it  would  be  wiser  for  her 
to  say  "No";   don't  you,  Julia?' 

Merton  was  reminded  of  one  of  M.  Paul  Bourget's 
amiable  married  heroines,  who  erred  out  of  sheer 
goodness  of  heart,  but  he  only  signified  his  intelligence 
and  sympathy. 

'  Then  poor  Julia,'  Miss  Crofton  went  on  hurriedly, 
'  finds  that  she  has  misunderstood  her  heart.  Re- 
cently, ever  since  she  met  Captain  Lestrange  —  of 
the  Guards ' 

'The  fourth?'  asked  Merton. 

Miss  Crofton  nodded.    '  She  has  felt  more  and  more 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   OFFICE   SCREEN     77 

certain  that  she  had  misread  her  heart.  But  on  each 
occasion  she  has  felt  this  —  after  meeting  the  —  well, 
the  next  one.' 

'  I  see  the  awkwardness,'  murmured  Merton. 

'  And  then  Remorse  has  set  in,  with  all  her  horrors. 
Julia  has  wept,  oh !  for  nights,  on  my  shoulder.* 

'  Happy  shoulder,'  murmured  Merton. 

'  And  so,  as  she  dare  not  shatter  their  ideals,  and 
perhaps  cause  them  to  plunge  into  excesses,  moral  or 
doctrinal,  this  is  what  she  has  done.  She  has  said  to 
each,  that  what  the  Church,  any  Church,  needs  is 
martyrs,  and  that  if  they  will  go  to  benighted  lands, 
where  the  crown  of  martyrdom  may  still  be  won, 
then,  if  they  return  safe  in  five  years,  then  she  —  will 
think  of  naming  a  day.  You  wuU  easily  see  the 
attractions  of  this  plan  for  Julia,  Mr.  Merton.  No 
ideals  were  shattered,  the  young  men  being  unaware 
of  the  circumstances.     They  might  forget  her ' 

'  Impossible,'  cried  Merton. 

'They  might    forget    her,   or,   perhaps   they ' 

Miss  Crofton  hesitated. 

'  Perhaps  they  might  never ?  '  asked  Merton. 

'Yes,'  said  Miss  Crofton;  'perhaps  they  might 
fiot.  That  would  be  all  to  the  good  for  the  Church ; 
no  ideals  would  be  shattered  —  the  reverse  —  and 
dear  Julia  would ' 

'  Cherish  their  pious  memories,'  said  Merton. 

'I  see  that  you  understand  me,'  said  Miss  Crofton. 

Merton  did  understand,  and  he  was  reminded  of  the 
wicked  lady,  who,  when  tired  of  her  lovers,  had  them 
put  into  a  sack,  and  dropped  into  the  Seine. 

'  But,'  he  asked,  '  has  this  ingenious  system  failed 


■«-■■ 


78  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

to  work?  I  should  suppose  that  each  young  man, 
on  distant  and  on  deadly  shores,  was  far  from  causing 
inconvenience.' 

'  The  defect  of  the  system,'  said  Miss  Crofton,  '  is 
that  none  of  them  has  gone,  or  seems  in  a  hurry  to  go. 
The  first  — that  was  Mr.  Bathe,  Julia?' 

Julia  nodded. 

'  Mr.  Bathe  was  to  have  gone  to  Turkey  during  the 
Armenian  atrocities,  and  to  have  forced  England  to 
intervene  by  taking  the  Armenian  side  and  getting 
massacred.  Julia  was  intensely  interested  in  the 
Armenians.  But  Mr.  Bathe  first  said  that  he  must 
lead  Julia  to  the  altar  before  he  went;  and  then  the 
massacres  fell  off,  and  he  remains  at  Cheltenham,  and 
is  very  tiresome.  And  then  there  is  Mr.  Clancy, 
he  was  to  go  out  to  China,  and  denounce  the  gods  of 
the  heathen  Chinese  in  the  public  streets.  But  he 
insisted  that  Julia  should  first  be  his,  and  he  is  at 
Leamington,  and  not  a  step  has  he  taken  to  convert 
the  Boxers.' 

Merton  knew  the  name  of  Clancy.  Clancy  had 
been  his  fag  at  school,  and  Merton  thought  it  ex- 
tremely improbable  that  the  Martyr's  crown  would 
ever  adorn  his  brow. 

'  Then  —  and  this  is  the  last  of  them,  of  the  clergy, 
at  least  —  Mr.  Brooke  :  he  was  to  visit  the  New  Heb- 
rides, where  the  natives  are  cannibals,  and  utterly  un- 
awakened.  He  is  as  bad  as  the  others.  He  won't 
go  alone.  Now,  Julia  is  obliged  to  correspond  with 
all  of  them  in  affectionate  terms  (she  keeps  well  out 
of  their  way),  and  this  course  of  what  she  feels  to  be 
duplicity  is  preying  terribly  on  her  conscience.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    OFFICE   SCREEN     79 

Here  Julia  sobbed  hysterically. 

'  She  is  afraid,  too,  that  by  some  accident,  though 
none  of  them  know  each  other,  they  may  become 
aware  of  the  state  of  affairs,  or  Captain  Lestrange,  to 
whom  she  is  passionately  attached,  may  find  it  out, 
and  then,  not  only  may  their  ideals  be  wrecked, 
but ' 

'  Yes,  I  see,'  said  Merton ;   '  it  is  awkward,  very.' 

The  interview,  an  early  one,  had  lasted  for  some 
time.  Merton  felt  that  the  hour  of  luncheon  had 
arrived,  and,  after  luncheon,  it  had  been  his  intention 
to  go  up  to  the  University  match.  He  also  knew, 
from  various  sounds,  that  clients  were  waiting  in 
the  ante-chamber.  At  this  moment  the  door  opened, 
and  the  office  boy,  entering,  laid  three  cards  before 
him. 

'  The  gentlemen  asked  when  you  could  see  them, 
sir.  They  have  been  waiting  some  time.  They  say 
that  their  appointment  was  at  one  o'clock,  and  they 
wish  to  go  back  to  Lord's.' 

'  So  do  I,' thought  Merton  sadly.  He  looked  at  the 
cards,  repressed  a  whistle,  and  handed  them  silently 
to  Miss  Crofton,  bidding  the  boy  go,  and  return  in 
three  minutes. 

Miss  Crofton  uttered  a  little  shriek,  and  pressed  the 
cards  on  Julia's  attention.  Raising  her  veil,  Julia 
scanned  them,  wrung  her  hands,  and  displayed  symp- 
toms of  a  tendency  to  faint.  The  cards  bore  the 
names  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bathe,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brooke, 
and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clancy. 

'  What  is  to  be  done  ?  '  asked  Miss  Crofton  in  a 
whisper.     '  Can't  you  send  them  away?  * 


8o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Impossible,'  said  Merton  firmly. 

'  If  we  go  out  they  will  know  me,  and  suspect 
Julia.' 

Miss  Crofton  looked  round  the  room  with  eyes  of 
desperate  scrutiny.  They  at  once  fell  on  a  large  old- 
fashioned  screen,  covered  with  engravings,  which 
Merton  had  picked  up  for  the  sake  of  two  or  three 
old  mezzotints,  barbarously  pasted  on  to  this  article 
of  furniture  by  some  ignorant  owner. 

*  Saved  !  we  are  saved  !  Hist,  Julia,  hither  !  '  said 
Miss  Crofton  in  a  stage  whisper.  And  while  Merton 
murmured  '  Highly  unprofessional,'  the  skirts  of  the 
two  ladies  vanished  behind  the  screen. 

Miss  Crofton  had  not  played  Lady  Teazle  for 
nothing. 

'  Ask  the  gentlemen  to  come  in,'  said  Merton,  when 
the  boy  returned. 

They  entered :  three  fair  young  curates,  nervous 
and  inclined  to  giggle.  Shades  of  difference  of 
ecclesiastical  opinion  declared  themselves  in  their 
hats,  costume,  and  jewellery. 

'  Be  seated,  gentlemen,'  said  Merton,  and  they  sat 
down  on  three  chairs,  in  identical  attitudes. 

'  We  hope,'  said  the  man  on  the  left,  '  that  we  are 
not  here  inconveniently.  We  would  have  waited,  but, 
you  see,  we  have  all  come  up  for  the  match.' 

'  How  is  it  going?  '  asked  Merton  anxiously. 

'Cambridge  four  wickets  down  for   115,  but ' 

and  the  young  man  stared,  '  it  must  be,  it  is  Pussy 
Merton !  ' 

'  And  you,  Clancy  Minor,  why  are  you  not  con- 
verting the  Heathen  Chinee?  You  deserve  a  death 
of  torture.' 


THE   LAIHES   UVKKH1-:AK   THIC   CLKAT'ES. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE  SCREEN  8r 

'  Goodness  !  How  do  you  know  that  ? '  asked 
Clancy. 

'  I  know  many  things,'  answered  Merton.  '  I  am 
not  sure  which  of  you  is  Mr.  Bathe.' 

Clancy  presented  Mr.  Bathe,  a  florid  young  evan- 
gelist, who  blushed. 

'  Armenia  is  still  suffering,  Mr.  Bathe ;  and  Mr. 
Brooke,'  said  Merton,  detecting  him  by  the  Method 
of  Residues,  '  the  oven  is  still  hot  in  the  New 
Hebrides.  What  have  you  got  to  say  for  your- 
selves?' 

The  curates  shifted  nervously  on  their  chairs. 

'  We  see,  Merton,'  said  Clancy,  '  that  you  know  a 
good  deal  which  we  did  not  know  ourselves  till  lately. 
In  fact,  we  did  not  know  each  other  till  the  Church 
Congress  at  Leamington.  Then  the  other  men  came 
to  tea  at  my  rooms,  and  saw ' 

'A  portrait  of  a  lady;  each  of  you  possessed  a 
similar  portrait,'  said  Merton. 

'  How  the  dev —  I  mean,  how  do  you  know  that?  ' 

'  By  a  simple  deductive  process,'  said  Merton. 
'  There  were  also  letters,'  he  said.  Here  a  gurgle 
from  behind  the  screen  was  audible  to  Merton. 

'  We  did  not  read  each  others'  letters,'  said  Clancy, 
blushing. 

'Of  course  not,'  said  Merton. 

'  But  the  handwriting  on  the  envelopes  was  iden- 
tical,' Clancy  went  on. 

'  Well,  and  what  can  our  Society  do  for  you?' 

*  Why,  we  saw  your  advertisements,  never  guessed 
they  were  yours,  of  course.  Pussy,  and  —  none  of  us  is 

a  man  of  the  world * 

6 


82  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

*  I  congratulate  you,'  said  Merton. 

'  So  we  thought  we  had  better  take  advice :  it 
seemed  rather  a  lark,  too,  don't  you  know?  The 
fact  is  —  you  appear  to  have  divined  it  somehow  — 
we  find  that  we  are  all  engaged  to  the  same  lady. 
We  can't  fight,  and  we  can't  all  marry  her.' 

'  In  Thibet  it  might  be  practicable :  martyrdom 
might  also  be  secured  there,'  said  Merton. 

'  Martyrdom  is  not  good  enough,'  said  Clancy. 

'  Not  half,'  said  Bathe. 

'  A  man  has  his  duties  in  his  own  country,'  said 
Brooke. 

'  May  I  ask  whether  in  fact  your  sorrows  at  this 
discovery  have  been  intense?'  asked  Merton. 

'  I  was  a  good  deal  cut  up  at  first,'  said  Clancy,  '  I 
being  the  latest  recruit.  Bathe  had  practically  given 
up  hope,  and  had  seen  some  one  else.'  Mr.  Bathe 
drooped  his  head,  and  blushed.  '  Brooke  laughed. 
Indeed  we  all  laughed,  though  we  felt  rather  foolish. 
But  what  are  we  to  do?  Should  we  write  her  a 
Round  Robin?  Bathe  says  he  ought  to  be  the  man, 
because  he  was  first  man  in,  and  I  say  /  ought  to  be 
the  man,  because  I  am  not  out.' 

'  I  would  not  build  much  on  that'  said  Merton, 
and  he  was  sure  that  he  heard  a  rustle  behind  the 
screen,  and  a  slight  struggle.  Julia  was  trying  to 
emerge,  restrained  by  Miss  Crofton. 

'  I  knew,'  said  Clancy, '  that  there  was  something  — 
that  there  were  other  fellows.  But  that  I  learned, 
more  or  less,  under  the  seal  of  confession,  so  to 
speak. ' 

*  At  a  picnic,'  said  Merton. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  OFFICE  SCREEN  Ss 

At  this  moment  the  screen  fell  with  a  crash,  and 
Julia  emerged,  her  eyes  blazing,  while  Miss  Crofton 
followed,  her  hat  somewhat  crushed  by  the  falling 
screen.  The  three  young  men  in  Holy  Orders,  all  of 
them  desirable  young  men,  arose  to  their  feet,  trem- 
bling visibly. 

'  Apostates !  '  cried  Julia,  who  had  by  far  the  best 
of  the  dramatic  situation  and  pressed  her  advantage. 
'Recreants!  was  it  for  such  as  jyou  that  I  pointed 
to  the  crown  of  martyrdom?  Was  it  for  your  shat- 
tered ideals  that  I  have  wept  many  a  night  on  Serena's 
faithful  breast?  '  She  pointed  to  Miss  Crofton,  who 
enfolded  her  in  an  embrace.  '  You  !  '  Julia  went  on, 
aiming  at  them  the  finger  of  conviction.  'I  am  but  a 
woman,  weak  I  may  have  been,  wavering  I  may  have 
been,  but  I  took  you  for  men  !  I  chose  you  to  dare, 
perhaps  to  perish,  for  a  Cause.  But  now,  triflers  that 
you  are,  boys,  mere  boys,  back  with  you  to  your 
silly  games,  back  to  the  thoughtless  throng.  I  have 
done.' 

Julia,  attended  by  Miss  Crofton,  swept  from  the 
chamber,  under  her  indignation  (which  was  quite  as 
real  as  any  of  her  other  emotions)  the  happiest 
woman  in  London.  She  had  no  more  occasion 
for  remorse,  no  ideals  had  she  sensibly  injured. 
Her  entanglements  were  disentangled.  She  inhaled 
the  fragrance  of  orange  blossoms  from  afar,  and 
heard  the  marriage  music  in  the  chapel  of  the 
Guards.  Meanwhile  the  three  curates  and  Merton 
felt  as  if  they  had   been  whipped. 

'  Trust  a  woman  to  have  the  best  of  it,'  muttered 
Merton  admiringly.     '  And  now,  Clancy,  may  I  offer 


84  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

a  hasty  luncheon  to  you  and  your  friends  before  we 
go  to  Lord's?  Your  business  has  been  rather  rapidly 
despatched.' 

The  conversation   at  luncheon  turned  exclusively 
on  cricket. 


VI 

A   LOVER   IN   COCKY 

IT  cannot  be  said  that  the  bearers  of  the  noblest 
names  in  the  land  flocked  at  first  to  the  offices  of 
Messrs.  Gray  and  Graham.  In  fact  the  reverse,  in  the 
beginning,  was  the  case.  Members  even  of  the  more 
learned  professions  held  aloof:  indeed  barristers  and 
physicians  never  became  eager  clients.  On  the  other 
hand,  Messrs.  Gray  and  Graham  received  many  letters 
in  such  handwritings,  such  grammar,  and  such  or- 
thography, that  they  burned  them  without  replying. 
A  common  sort  of  case  was  that  of  the  young  farmer 
whose  widowed  mother  had  set  her  heart  on  marriage 
with  '  a  bonny  labouring  boy,'  a  ploughman. 

'  We  can  do  nothing  with  these  people,'  Merton 
remarked.  '  We  can't  send  down  a  young  and  ele- 
gant friend  of  ours  to  distract  the  affections  of  an 
elderly  female  agriculturist.  The  bonny  labouring 
boy  would  punch  the  fashionable  head ;  or,  at  all 
events,  would  prove  much  more  attractive  to  the 
widow  than  our  agent. 

'  Then  there  are  the  members  of  the  Hebrew  com- 
munity. They  hate  mixed  marriages,  and  quite  right 
too,  I  deeply  sympathise.  But  if  Leah  has  let  her 
affections  loose  on  young  Timmins,  an  Anglo-Saxon 
and  a  Christian,  what  can   we  do?     How  stop  the 


86  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

mesalliance?  We  have  not,  in  our  little  regiment, 
one  fair  Hebrew  boy  to  smile  away  her  maiden 
blame  among  the  Hebrew  mothers  of  Maida  Vale, 
and  to  cut  out  Timmins.  And  of  course  it  is  as  bad 
with  the  men.  If  young  Isaacs  wants  to  marry  Miss 
Julia  Timmins,  I  have  no  Rebecca  to  slip  at  him. 
The  Semitic  demand,  though  large  and  perhaps  lu- 
crative, cannot  be  met  out  of  a  purely  Aryan  supply.' 

Business  was  pretty  slack,  and  so  Merton  rather 
rejoiced  over  the  application  of  a  Mrs.  Nicholson, 
from  The  Laburnums,  Walton-on-Dove,  Derbyshire. 
Mrs.  Nicholson's  name  was  not  in  Burke's  '  Landed 
Gentry,'  and  The  Laburnums  could  hardly  be  esti- 
mated as  one  of  the  stately  homes  of  England.  Still, 
the  lady  was  granted  an  interview.  She  was  what  the 
Scots  call  '  a  buddy ;  '  that  is,  she  was  large,  round, 
attired  in  black,  between  two  ages,  and  not  easily  to 
be  distinguished,  by  an  unobservant  eye,  from  bud- 
dies as  a  class.  After  greetings,  and  when  enthroned 
in  the  client's  chair,  Mrs.  Nicholson  stated  her  case 
with  simplicity  and  directness. 

'  It  is  my  ward,'  she  said,  '  Barbara  Monypenny.  I 
must  tell  you  that  she  was  left  in  my  charge  till  she 
is  twenty-six.  I  and  her  lawyers  make  her  an  allow- 
ance out  of  her  property,  which  she  is  to  get  when 
she  marries  with  my  consent,  at  whatever  age.' 

'  May  I  ask  how  old  the  lady  is  at  present?'  said 
Merton. 

'  She  is  twenty-two.' 

'  Your  kindness  in  taking  charge  of  her  is  not 

not  wholly  uncompensated? ' 

*  No,  an  allowance  is  made  to  me  out  of  the  estate.* 


A    LOVER    IN    COCKY  87 

'  An  allowance  which  ends  on  her  marriage,  if  she 
marries  with  your  consent?' 

'  Yes,  it  ends  then.  Her  uncle  trusted  me  a  deal 
more  than  he  trusted  Barbara.  She  was  strange  from 
a  child.  Fond  of  the  men,'  as  if  that  were  an  unusual 
and  unbecoming  form  of  philanthropy. 

'  I  see,  and  she  being  an  heiress,  the  testator  was 
anxious  to  protect  her  youth  and  innocence?' 

Mrs.  Nicholson  merely  sniffed,  but  the  sniff  was 
affirmative,  though  sarcastic. 

'  Her  property,  I  suppose,  is  considerable?  I  do 
not  ask  from  impertinent  curiosity,  nor  for  exact 
figures.  But,  as  a  question  of  business,  may  we  call 
the  fortune  considerable?' 

'  Most  people  do.     It  runs  into  six  figures.' 

Merton,  who  had  no  mathematical  head,  scribbled 
on  a  piece  of  paper.  The  result  of  his  calculations 
(which  I,  not  without  some  fever  of  the  brow,  have 
personally  verified)  proved  that '  six  figures  '  might  be 
anything  between   ioo,ooo/.  and  999,000/.   igs.  iild. 

'  Certainly  it  is  very  considerable,'  Merton  said, 
after  a  few  minutes  passed  in  arithmetical  calculation. 
*  Am  I  too  curious  if  I  ask  what  is  the  source  of  this 
opulence? ' 

* "  Wilton's  Panmedicon,  or  Heal  All,"  a  patent 
medicine.     He  sold  the  patent  and  retired.' 

Merton  shuddered. 

'  It  would  be  Pammedicum  if  it  could  be  anything,' 
he  thought,  '  but  it  can't,  linguistically  speaking.' 

'  Invaluable  as  a  subterfuge,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson, 
obviously  with  an  indistinct  recollection  of  the  adver- 
tisement and  of  the  properties  of  the  drug. 


88  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Merton  construed  the  word  as  '  febrifuge,'  silently, 
and  asked :  '  Have  you  taken  the  young  lady  much 
into  society:  has  she  had  many  opportunities  of  mak- 
ing a  choice?  You  are  dissatisfied  with  the  choice, 
I  understand,  which  she  has  made  ? ' 

*  I  don't  let  her  see  anybody  if  I  can  help  it.  Fire 
and  powder  are  better  kept  apart,  and  she  is  powder, 
a  minx !  Only  a  fisher  or  two  comes  to  the  Perch, 
that's  the  inn  at  Walton-on-Dove,  and  they  diVe  mostly 
old  gentlemen,  pottering  with  their  rods  and  things. 
If  a  young  man  comes  to  the  inn,  I  take  care  to 
trapes  after  her  through  the  nasty  damp  meadows.* 

'  Is  the  young  lady  an  angler?  ' 

'  She  is  —  most  unwomanly  I  call  it.' 

Merton's  idea  of  the  young  lady  rose  many  degrees. 
*  You  said  the  young  lady  was  "  strange  from  a  child, 
very  strange.  Fond  of  the  men."  Happily  for  our 
sex,  and  for  the  world,  it  is  not  so  very  strange  or 
unusual  to  take  pity  on  us.' 

'  She  has  always  been  queer.' 

'You  do  not  hint  at  any  cerebral  disequilibrium?' 
asked  Merton. 

'Would  you  mind  saying  that  again?'  asked  Mrs. 
Nicholson. 

'  I  meant  nothing  wrong  heref*  Merton  said,  laying 
his  finger  on  his  brow. 

'No,  not  so  bad  as  that,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson ;  '  but 
just  queer.  Uncommon.  Tells  odd  stories  about  — 
nonsense.  She  is  wearing  with  her  dreams.  She 
reads  books  on,  I  don't  know  how  to  call  it  —  Tipsy- 
cake,  Tipsicakical  Search.     Histories,  /call  it.' 

'  Yes,  I  understand,'  said  Merton ;  '  Psychical 
Research.' 


A    LOVER   IN    COCKY  89 

'  That 's  it,  and  Hyptonism,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson,  as 
many  ladies  do. 

'  Ah,  Hyptonism,  so  called  from  its  founder, 
Hypton,  the  eminent  Anglo-French  chemist ;  he  was 
burned  at  Rome,  one  of  the  latest  victims  of  the 
Inquisition,'  said   Merton. 

'  I  don't  hold  with  Popery,  sir,  but  it  served  him 
right.' 

'  That  is  all  the  queerness  then  ! ' 
'  That  and  general  discontentedness.' 
'  Girls   will    be    girls,'    said    Merton ;     '  she   wants 
society.' 

'  Want  must  be  her  master  then,'  said  Mrs.  Nichol- 
son stolidly. 

'  But  about  the  man  of  her  choice,  have  you  any- 
thing against  him? ' 

'  No,  but  nothing /cr  him:   I  never  even  saw  him.' 
'  Then   where    did    Miss    Monypenny    make    his 
acquaintance?  ' 

'  Well,  like  a  fool,  I  let  her  go  to  pass  Christmas 
with  some  distant  cousins  of  my  own,  who  should 
have  known  better.  They  stupidly  took  her  to  a 
dance,  at  Tutbury,  and  there  she  met  him  :  just  that 
once.' 

'  And  they  became  engaged  on  so  short  an  ac- 
quaintance? ' 

'  Not  exactly  that.  She  was  not  engaged  when 
she  came  home,  and  did  not  seem  to  mean  to  be. 
She  did  talk  of  him  a  lot.  He  had  got  round  her 
finely :  told  her  that  he  was  going  out  to  the  war,  and 
that  they  were  sister  spirits.  He  had  dreamed  of 
meeting  her,  he  said,  and  that  was  why  he  came  to 


90  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

the  ball,  for  he  did  not  dance.  He  said  he  believed 
they  had  met  in  a  state  of  pre  —  something ;  meaning, 
if  you  understand  me,  before  they  were  born,  which 
could  not  be  the  case :  she  not  being  a  twin,  still  less 
his  twin.' 

'  That  would  be  the  only  way  of  accounting  for  it, 
certainly,'  said  Merton.  'But  what  followed?  Did 
they  correspond?' 

'  He  wrote  to  her,  but  she  showed  me  the  letter, 
and  put  it  in  the  fire  unopened.  He  had  written 
his  name,  Marmaduke  Ingles,  on  a  corner  of  the 
envelope.' 

'  So  far  her  conduct  seems  correct,  even  austere,' 
said  Merton. 

*  It  was  at  first,  but  then  he  wrote  from  South 
Africa,  where  he  volunteered  as  a  doctor.  He  was 
a  doctor  at  Tutbury.' 

'  She  opened  that  letter?' 

'  Yes,  and  showed  it  to  me.  He  kept  on  with  his 
nonsense,  asking  her  never  to  forget  him,  and  send- 
ing his  photograph  in  cocky.' 

'  Pardon  !  '  said  Merton. 

'  In  uniform.  And  if  he  fell,  she  would  see  his 
ghost,  in  cocky,  crossing  her  room,  he  said.  In  fact 
he  knew  how  to  get  round  the  foolish  girl.  I  believe 
he  went  out  there  just  to  make  himself  interesting.' 

'  Did  you  try  to  find  out  what  sort  of  character  he 
had  at  home  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  there  was  no  harm  in  it,  only  he  had  no  busi- 
ness to  speak  of,  everybody  goes  to  Dr.  Young- 
husband.' 

'  Then,  really,  if  he  is  an  honest  young  man,  as  he 


A    LOVER   IN    COCKY  91 

seems  to  be  a  patriotic  fellow,  are  you  certain  that 
you  are  wise  in  objecting?' 

'  I  do  object,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson,  and  indeed  her 
motives  for  refusing  her  consent  were  only  too 
obvious. 

'Are  they  quite  definitely  engaged  ? '  asked  Merton. 

'Yes  they  are  now,  by  letter,  and  she  says  she 
will  wait  for  him  till  I  die,  or  she  is  twenty-six,  if  I 
don't  give  my  consent.  He  writes  every  mail,  from 
places  with  outlandish  names,  in  Africa.  And  she 
keeps  looking  in  a  glass  ball,  like  the  labourers' 
women,  some  of  them;  she's  sunk  as  low  as  that; 
so  superstitious ;  and  sometimes  she  tells  me  that  she 
sees  what  he  is  doing,  and  where  he  is;  and  now 
and  then,  when  his  letters  come,  she  shows  me  bits 
of  them,  to  prove  she  was  right.  But  just  as  often 
she  's  wrong ;  only  she  won't  listen  to  me.  She  says 
it 's  Telly,  Tellyopathy.     I  say  it 's  flat  nonsense.' 

'  I  quite  agree  with  you,'  said  Merton,  with  con- 
viction. '  After  all,  though,  honest,  as  far  as  you 
hear.  .  .  .' 

'  Oh  yes,  honest  enough,  but  that 's  all,'  interrupted 
Mrs.  Nicholson,  with  a  hearty  sneer. 

'  Though  he  bears  a  good  character,  from  what  you 
tell  me  he  seems  to  be  a  very  silly  young  man.' 

'  Silly  Johnny  to  silly  Jenny,'  put  in  Mrs.  Nichol- 
son. 

'  A  pair  with  ideas  so  absurd  could  not  possibly  be 
happy.'  Merton  reasoned.  'Why  don't  you  take 
her  into  the  world,  and  show  her  life?  With  her 
fortune  and  with  you  to  take  her  about,  she  would 
soon  forget  this  egregiously  foolish  romance.' 


92  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  And  me  to  have  her  snapped  up  by  some  whip- 
per-snapper that  calls  himself  a  lord  ?  Not  me,  Mr. 
Graham,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson.  '  The  money  that 
her  uncle  made  by  the  Panmedicon  is  not  going 
to  be  spent  on  horses,  and  worse,  if  I  can  help 
it.' 

'  Then,'  said  Merton,  '  all  I  can  do  for  you  is  by 
our  ordinary  method  —  to  throw  some  young  man 
of  worth  and  education  in  the  way  of  your  ward,  and 
attempt  to  —  divert  her  affections.' 

'  And  have  him  carry  her  off  under  my  very  nose? 
Not  much,  Mr.  Graham.  Why  where  do  /  come  in, 
in  this  pretty  plan?  ' 

'Do  not  suppose  me  to  suggest  anything  so  — 
detrimental  to  your  interests,  Mrs.  Nicholson.  Is 
your  ward  beautiful  ?  ' 

*  A  toad  !  '  said  Mrs.  Nicholson  with  emphasis. 

'  Very  well.  There  is  no  danger.  The  gentleman 
of  whom  I  speak  is  betrothed  to  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  girls  in  England.  They  are  deeply  at- 
tached, and  their  marriage  is  only  deferred  for  pru- 
dential reasons.' 

'  I  don't  trust  one  of  them,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson. 

'  Very  well,  madam,'  answered  Merton  severely;  '  I 
have  done  all  that  experience  can  suggest.  The 
gentleman  of  whom  I  speak  has  paid  especial  atten- 
tion to  the  mental  delusions  under  which  your  ward 
is  labouring,  and  has  been  successful  in  removing 
them  in  some  cases.  But  as  you  reject  my  sugges- 
tion '  —  he  rose,  so  did  Mrs.  Nicholson  —  '  I  have  the 
honour  of  wishing  you  a  pleasant  journey  back  to 
Derbyshire.' 


A   LOVER   IN    COCKY  93 

'  A  bullet  may  hit  him,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson  with 
much  acerbity.     '  That 's  my  best  hope.' 

Then  Merton  bowed  her  out, 

'The  old  woman  will  never  let  the  girl  marry  any- 
body, except  some  adventurer,  who  squares  her  by 
giving  her  the  full  value  of  her  allowance  out  of  the 
estate,'  thought  Merton,  adding  '  I  wonder  how  much 
it  is !  Six  figures  is  anything  between  a  hundred 
thousand  and  a  million !  ' 

The  man  he  had  thought  of  sending  down  to  divert 
Miss  Monypenny's  affections  from  the  young  doctor 
was  Jephson,  the  History  coach,  at  that  hour  waiting 
for  a  professorship  to  enable  him  to  marry  Miss 
Willoughby. 

However,  he  dismissed  Mrs.  Nicholson  and  her 
ward  from  his  mind.  About  a  fortnight  later  Merton 
received  a  letter  directed  in  an  uneducated  hand. 
'  Another  of  the  agricultural  classes,'  he  thought, 
but,  looking  at  the  close  of  the  epistle,  he  saw  the 
name  of  Eliza  Nicholson.     She  wrote: 

'  Sir,  —  Barbara  has  been  at  her  glass  ball,  and  seen  him 
being  carried  on  board  a  ship.  If  she  is  right,  and  she  is 
not  always  wrong,  he  is  on  his  way  home.  Though  I  will 
never  give  my  consent,  this  spells  botheration  for  me.  You 
can  send  down  your  young  man  that  cures  by  teleopathy,  a 
thing  that  has  come  up  since  my  time.  He  can  stay  at  the 
Perch,  and  take  a  fishing  rod,  then  they  are  safe  to  meet. 
I  trust  him  no  more  than  the  rest,  but  she  may  fall  between 
two  stools,  if  the  doctor  does  come  home. 
'Your  obedient  servant, 

*  Eliza  Nicholson.' 


94  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Merely  to  keep  one's  hand  in,'  thought  Merton, 
'  in  the  present  disappointing  slackness  of  business, 
I  '11  try  to  see  Jephson.  I  don't  like  or  trust  him. 
I  don't  think  he  is  the  man  for  Miss  Willoughby. 
So,  if  he  ousts  the  doctor,  and  catches  the  heiress, 
why  "  there  was  more  lost  at  Shirramuir,"  as  Logan 
says.' 

Merton  managed  to  go  up  to  Oxford,  and  called  on 
Jephson.  He  found  him  anxious  about  a  good,  quiet, 
cheap  place  for  study. 

'Do  you  fish?'  asked  Merton. 

'  When  I  get  the  chance,'  said  Jephson. 

He  was  a  dark,  rather  clumsy,  but  not  unprepossess- 
ing young  don,  with  a  very  slight  squint. 

'If  you  fish  did  you  ever  try  the  Perch  —  I  mean 
an  inn,  not  the  fish  of  the  same  name  —  at  Walton- 
on-Dove?  A  pretty  quiet  place,  two  miles  of  water, 
local  history  perhaps  interesting.  It  is  not  very  far 
from  Tutbury,  where  Queen  Mary  was  kept,  I 
think.' 

'It  sounds  well,'  said  Jephson;  'I'll  write  to  the 
landlord  and  ask  about  terms.' 

'  You  could  not  do  better,'  said  Merton,  and  he  took 
his  leave. 

>•  '  Now,  am  I,'  thought  Merton  as  he  walked  down 
the  Broad,  '  to  put  Jephson  up  to  it?  If  I  don't,  of 
course  I  can't  "  reap  the  benefit  of  one  single  pin  " 
for  the  Society:  Jephson  not  being  a  member.  But 
the  money,  anyhow,  would  come  from  that  old  harpy 
out  of  the  girl's  estate.  Olet!  I  don't  like  the  fra- 
grance of  that  kind  of  cash.  But  if  the  girl  really 
is  plain,  "  a  toad,"  nothing  may  happen.     On  the 


A   LOVER   IN    COCKY  95 

other  hand,  Jephson  is  sure  to  hear  about  her  position 
from  local  gossip  —  that  she  is  rich,  and  so  on.  Per- 
haps she  is  not  so  very  plain.  They  are  sure  to  meet, 
or  Mrs.  Nicholson  will  bring  them  together  in  her 
tactful  way.  She  has  not  much  time  to  lose  if  the 
girl's  glass  ball  yarn  is  true,  and  it  may  be  true  by  a 
fluke.  Jephson  is  rather  bitten  by  a  taste  for  all  that 
"  teleopathy  "  business,  as  the  old  Malaprop  calls  it. 
On  the  whole,  I  shall  say  no  more  to  him,  but  let 
him  play  the  game,  if  he  goes  to  Walton,  off  his  own 
bat.' 

Presently  Merton  received  a  note  from  Jephson 
dated  'The  Perch,  Walton-on-Dove.'  Jephson  ex- 
pressed his  gratitude ;  the  place  suited  his  purpose 
very  well.  He  had  taken  a  brace  and  a  half  of  trout, 
'bordering  on  two  pounds'  ('one  and  a  quarter,' 
thought  Merton).  '  And,  what  won't  interest  yoti,^ 
his  letter  said,  '  I  have  run  across  a  curiously  interest- 
ing subject,  what  yon  would  call  hysterical.  But  what, 
after  all,  is  hysteria?  '  &c.,  &c. 

'  V affaire  est  da?is  le  sac!  '  said  Merton  to  himself. 
*  Jephson  and  Miss  Monypenny  have  met ! ' 

Weeks  passed,  and  one  day,  on  arriving  at  the 
office,  Merton  found  Miss  Willoughby  there  awaiting 
his  arrival.  She  was  the  handsome  Miss  Willoughby, ' 
Jephson's  betrothed,  a  learned  young  lady  who 
lived  but  poorly  by  verifying  references  and  making 
researches  at  the  Record  Office. 

Merton  at  once  had  a  surmise,  nor  was  it  mistaken. 
The  usual  greetings  had  scarcely  passed,  when  the 
girl,  with  cheeks  on  fire  and  eyes  aflame,  said : 

'  Mr.  Merton,  do  you  remember  a  question,  rather 


96  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

unconventional,  which  you  put  to  me  at  the  dinner 
party  you  and  Mr.  Logan  gave  at  the  restaurant?' 

'  I  ought  not  to  have  said  it,'  said  Merton,  '  but 
then  it  was  an  unconventional  gathering.  I  asked  if 
you ' 

'  Your  words  were  "  Had  I  a  spark  of  the  devil  in 
me  ?  "     Well,  I  have  !     Can  I ' 

'Turn  it  to  any  purpose?  You  can,  Miss  Wil- 
loughby,  and  I  shall  have  the  honour  to  lay  the 
method  before  you,  of  course  only  for  your  con- 
sideration, and  under  seal  of  secrecy.  Indeed 
I  was  just  about  to  write  to  you  asking  for  an 
interview.' 

Merton  then  laid  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
wanted  Miss  Willoughby's  aid  before  her,  but  these 
must  be  reserved  for  the  present.  She  listened,  was 
surprised,  was  clearly  ready  for  more  desperate  ad- 
ventures ;   she  came  into  his  views,  and  departed. 

'  Jephson  has  played  the  game  off  his  own  bat  —  and 
won  it,'  thought  Merton  to  himself.  '  What  a  very 
abject  the  fellow  is!  But,  after  all,  I  have  disentan- 
gled Miss  Willoughby;  she  was  infinitely  too  good 
for  the  man,  with  his  squint.' 

As  Merton  indulged  in  these  rather  Pharisaical 
reflections,  Mrs.  Nicholson  was  announced.  Merton 
greeted  her,  and  gave  orders  that  no  other  client  was 
to  be  admitted.  He  was  himself  rather  nervous. 
Was  Mrs.  Nicholson  in  a  rage?  No,  her  eyes  beamed 
friendly ;  geniality  clothed  her  brow. 

'  He  has  squared  her,'  thought  Merton. 

Indeed,  the  lady  had  warmly  grasped  his  hand  with 
both  of  her  own,  which  were  imprisoned  in  tight  new 


A   LOVER    IN    COCKY  97 

gloves,  while  her  bonnet  spoke  of  regardlessness  of 
expense  and  recent  prodigahty.  She  fell  back  into 
the  client's  chair. 

'  Oh,  sir,'  she  said,  '  when  first  we  met  we  did  not 
part,  or  /  did  not  — you  were  quite  the  gentleman  — 
on  the  best  of  terms.  But  now,  how  can  I  speak 
of  your  wise  advice,  and  how  much  don't  I  owe 
you? ' 

Merton  answered  very  gravely:  'You  do  not  owe 
me  anything,  Madam.  Please  understand  that  I 
took  absolutely  no  professional  steps  in  your  affair.' 

'  What?  '  cried  Mrs.  Nicholson.  '  You  did  not  send 
down  that  blessed  young  man  to  the  Perch? ' 

*  I  merely  suggested  that  the  inn  might  suit  a 
person  whom  I  knew,  who  was  looking  for  country 
quarters.  Your  name  never  crossed  my  lips,  nor 
a  word  about  the  business  on  which  you  did  me  the 
honour  to  consult  me.' 

'Then  I  owe  you  nothing?' 

'  Nothing  at  all.' 

'  Well,  I  do  call  this  providential,'  said  Mrs. 
Nicholson,  with  devout  enthusiasm. 

'  You  are  not  in  my  debt  to  the  extent  of  a 
farthing,  but  if  you  think  I  have  accidentally 
been ' 

'An  instrument?'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson. 

'  Well,  an  unconscious  instrument,  perhaps  you 
can  at  least  tell  me  why  you  think  so.  What  has 
happened? ' 

'  You  really  don't  know?  ' 

'  I  only  know  that  you  are  pleased,  and  that  your 
anxieties  seem  to  be  relieved.' 

7 


98  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'Why,  he  saved  her  from  being  burned,  and  the 
brave,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson, '  deserve  the  fair,  not  that 
she  is  a  beauty.' 

'  Do  tell  me  all  that  happened.' 

'And  tell  you  I  can,  for  that  precious  young  man 
took  me  into  his  confidence.  First,  when  I  heard  that 
he  had  come  to  the  Perch,  I  trampled  about  the  damp 
river-side  with  Barbara,  and  sure  enough  they  met,  he 
being  on  the  Perch's  side  of  the  fence,  and  Barbara's 
line  being  caught  high  up  in  a  tree  on  ours,  as  often 
happens.  Well,  I  asked  him  to  come  over  the  fence 
and  help  her  to  get  her  line  clear,  which  he  did  very 
civilly,  and  then  he  showed  her  how  to  fish,  and  then 
I  asked  him  to  tea  and  left  them  alone  a  bit,  and 
when  I  came  back  they  were  talking  about  teleopathy, 
and  her  glass  ball,  and  all  that  nonsense.  And  he 
seemed  interested,  but  not  to  believe  in  it  quite.  I 
could  not  understand  half  their  tipsycakical  lingo. 
So  of  course  they  often  met  again  at  the  river,  and 
he  often  came  to  tea,  and  she  seemed  to  take  to 
him  —  she  was  always  one  for  the  men.  And  at 
last  a  very  queer  thing  happened,  and  gave  him 
his  chance. 

'  It  was  a  very  hot  day  in  July,  and  she  fell  asleep 
on  a  seat  under  a  tree  with  her  glass  ball  in  her  lap ; 
she  had  been  staring  at  it,  I  suppose.  Any  way  she 
slept  on,  till  the  sun  went  round  and  shone  full  on  the 
ball ;  and  just  as  he,  Mr.  Jephson,  that  is,  came  into 
the  gate,  the  glass  ball  began  to  act  like  a  burning 
glass  and  her  skirt  began  to  smoke.  Well,  he  waited 
a  bit,  I  think,  till  the  skirt  blazed  a  little,  and  then  he 
rushed  up  and  threw  his  coat  over  her  skirt,  and  put 


A   LOVER   IN   COCKY  99 

the  fire  out.  And  so  he  saved  her  from  being  a 
Molochaust,  Hke  you  read  about  in  the  bible.' 

Merton  mentally  disengaged  the  word  '  Molo- 
chaust' into  '  Moloch'  and  '  holocaust.' 

'  And  there  she  was,  when  I  happened  to  come 
by,  a-crying  and  carrying  on,  with  her  head  on  his 
shoulder.' 

'A  pleasing  group,  and  so  they  were  engaged  on 
the  spot?'  asked  Merton. 

*  Not  she !  She  held  off,  and  thanked  her  pre- 
server ;  but  she  would  be  true,  she  said,  to  her  lover 
in  cocky.  But  before  that  Mr.  Jephson  had  taken  me 
into  his  confidence.' 

*  And  you  made  no  objection  to  his  winning  your 
ward,  if  he  could?  ' 

'  No,  sir,  I  could  trust  that  young  man  :  I  could  trust 
him  with  Barbara.' 

'  His  arguments,'  said  Merton,  *  must  have  been 
very  cogent?' 

'  He  understood  my  situation  if  she  married,  and 
what  I  deserved,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson,  growing  rather 
uncomfortable,  and  fidgeting  in  the  client's  chair. 

Merton,  too,  understood,  and  knew  what  the  sym- 
pathetic arguments  of  Jephson  must  have  been. 

'  And,  after  all,'  Merton  asked,  '  the  lover  has  pros- 
pered in  his  suit?  ' 

'  This  is  how  he  got  round  her.  He  said  to  me  that 
night,  in  private:  "  Mrs.  Nicholson,"  said  he,  "your 
niece  is  a  very  interesting  historical  subject.  I  am 
deeply  anxious,  apart  from  my  own  passion  for  her, 
to  relieve  her  from  a  singular  but  not  very  uncommon 
delusion." 


lOO  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

' "  Meaning  her  lover  in  cocky,"  I  said. 
' "  There  is  no  lover  in  cocky,"  says  he. 
'  "  No  Dr.  Ingles  !  "  said  I. 

*  "  Yes,  there  is  a  Dr.  Ingles,  but  he  is  not  her 
lover,  and  your  niece  never  met  him.  I  bicycled  to 
Tutbury  lately,  and,  after  examining  the  scene  of 
Queen  Mary's  captivity,  I  made  a  few  inquiries. 
What  I  had  always  suspected  proved  to  be  true. 
Dr.  Ingles  was  not  present  at  that  ball  at  the  Bear 
at  Tutbury." 

'  Well,'  Mrs.  Nicholson  went  on,  '  you  might  have 
knocked  me  down  with  a  feather !  I  had  never  asked 
my  second  cousins  the  question,  not  wanting  them  to 
guess  about  my  afifairs.  But  down  I  sat,  and  wrote  to 
Maria,  and  got  her  answer.  Barbara  never  saw  Dr. 
Ingles !  only  heard  the  girls  mention  him,  and  his 
going  to  the  war.  And  then,  after  that,  by  Mr. 
Jephson's  advice,  I  went  and  gave  Barbara  my  mind. 
She  should  marry  Mr.  Jephson,  who  saved  her  life, 
or  be  the  laughing  stock  of  the  country.  I  showed 
her  up  to  herself,  with  her  glass  ball,  and  her  tele- 
opathy,  and  her  sham  love-letters,  that  she  wrote 
herself,  and  all  her  humbug.  She  cried,  and  she 
fainted,  and  she  carried  on,  but  I  went  at  her  when- 
ever she  could  listen  to  reason.  So  she  said  "  Yes," 
and  I  am  the  happy  woman.' 

*  And  Mr.  Jephson  is  to  be  congratulated  on  so 
sensible  and  veracious  a  bride,'  said  Merton. 

'  Oh,  he  says  it  is  by  no  means  an  uncommon  case, 
and  that  he  has  effected  a  complete  cure,  and  they 
will  be  as  happy  as  idiots,'  said  Mrs.  Nicholson,  as 
she  rose  to  depart. 


A   LOVER   IN    COCKY  loi 

She  left  Merton  pensive,  and  not  disposed  to  over- 
rate human  nature.  '  But  there  can't  be  many  fellows 
like  Jephson,'  he  said.  '  I  wonder  how  much  the  six 
figures  run  to  ?  '  But  that  question  was  never  answered 
to  his  satisfaction. 


VII 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL 

/.    The  Earl's  Long-Lost  Cousin 

A  JILT  in  time  saves  nine,'  says  the  proverbial 
wisdom  of  our  forefathers,  adding,  '  One  jilt 
makes  many.'  In  the  last  chapter  of  the  book  of  this 
chronicle,  we  told  how  the  mercenary  Mr.  Jephson 
proved  false  to  the  beautiful  Miss  Willoughby,  who 
supported  existence  by  her  skill  in  deciphering  and 
transcribing  the  manuscript  records  of  the  past.  We 
described  the  consequent  visit  of  Miss  Willoughby  to 
the  office  of  the  Disentanglers,  and  how  she  reminded 
Merton  that  he  had  asked  her  once  '  if  she  had  a 
spark  of  the  devil  in  her.'  She  had  that  morning 
received,  in  fact,  a  letter,  crawling  but  explicit,  from 
the  unworthy  Jephson,  her  lover.  Retired,  he  said, 
to  the  rural  loneliness  of  Derbyshire,  he  had  read  in 
his  own  heart,  and  what  he  there  deciphered  con- 
vinced him  that,  as  a  man  of  honour,  he  had  but  one 
course  before  him :  he  must  free  Miss  Willoughby 
from  her  engagement.  The  lady  was  one  of  those 
who  suffer  in  silence.  She  made  no  moan,  and  no 
reply  to  Jephson's  letter;  but  she  did  visit  Merton, 
and,  practically,  gave  him  to  understand  that  she  was 
ready  to  start  as  a  Corsair  on  the  seas  of  amorous 
adventure.     She    had    nailed    the  black  flag   to   the 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  103 

mast :  unhappy  herself,  she  was  apt  to  have  no  mercy 
on  the  sentiments  and  afifections  of  others. 

Merton,  as  it  chanced,  had  occasion  for  the  ser- 
vices of  a  lady  in  this  mood  ;  a  lady  at  once  attractive, 
and  steely-hearted  ;  resolute  to  revenge,  on  the  whole 
of  the  opposite  sex,  the  baseness  of  a  Fellow  of  his 
College.  Such  is  the  frenzy  of  an  injured  love  — 
illogical  indeed  (for  we  are  not  responsible  for  the 
errors  of  isolated  members  of  our  sex),  but  primitive, 
natural  to  women,  and  even  to  some  men,  in  Miss 
Willoughby's  position. 

The  occasion  for  such  services  as  she  would  per- 
form was  provided  by  a  noble  client  who,  on  visiting 
the  office,  had  found  Merton  out  and  Logan  in  at- 
tendance. The  visitor  was  the  Earl  of  Embleton,  of 
the  North.  Entering  the  rooms,  he  fumbled  with  the 
string  of  his  eyeglass,  and,  after  capturing  it,  looked 
at  Logan  with  an  air  of  some  bewilderment.  He  was 
a  tall,  erect,  slim,  and  well-preserved  patrician,  with 
a  manner  really  shy,  though  hasty  critics  interpreted 
it  as  arrogant.  He  was  '  between  two  ages,'  a  very 
susceptible  period  in  the  history  of  the  individual. 

'  I  think  we  have  met  before,'  said  the  Earl  to 
Logan.     '  Your  face  is  not  unfamiliar  to  me.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Logan,  '  I  have  seen  you  at  several 
places;  '  and  he  mumbled  a  number  of  names. 

'  Ah,  I  remember  now  —  at  Lady  Lochmaben's,' 
said  Lord  Embleton.  '  You  are,  I  think,  a  relation 
of  hers.  .  .   .' 

'  A  distant  relation :   my  name  is  Logan.' 

'  What,  of  the  Restalrig  family?  '  said  the  Earl,  with 
excitement. 


164  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  A  far-off  kinsman  of  the  Marquis,'  said  Logan, 
adding,  'May  I   ask  you  to  be  seated?' 

'  This  is  really  very  interesting  to  me  —  surprisingly 
interesting,'  said  the  Earl.  '  What  a  strange  coinci- 
dence !  How  small  the  world  is,  how  brief  are  the 
ages !  Our  ancestors,  Mr.  Logan,  were  very  intimate 
long  ago.' 

'  Indeed?'  said  Logan. 

'Yes.  I  would  not  speak  of  it  to  everybody;  in 
fact,  I  have  spoken  of  it  to  no  one ;  but  recently,  ex- 
amining some  documents  in  my  muniment-room,  I 
made  a  discovery  as  interesting  to  me  as  it  must  be 
to  you.  Our  ancestors  three  hundred  years  ago  — 
in   1600,  to  be  exact  —  were  fellow  conspirators.' 

'Ah,  the  old  Cowrie  game,  to  capture  the  King?' 
asked  Logan,  who  had  once  kidnapped  a  cat. 

His  knowledge  of  history  v/as  mainly  confined  to 
that  obscure  and  unexplained  affair,  in  which  his 
wicked  old  ancestor  is  thought  to  have  had  a 
hand. 

'That  is  it,'  said  the  visitor — 'the  Gowrie  mys- 
tery! You  may  remember  that  an  unknown  person, 
a  friend  of  your  ancestor,  was  engaged?' 

'  Yes,'  said  Logan  ;  '  he  was  never  identified.  Was 
his  name  Harris? ' 

The  peer  half  rose  to  his  feet,  flushed  a  fine  purple, 
twiddled  the  obsolete  little  grey  tuft  on  his  chin,  and 
sat  down  again. 

'  I  think  I  said,  Mr.  Logan,  that  the  hitherto  un- 
identified associate  of  your  ancestor  was  a  member  of 
my  own  family.  Our  name  is  7iot  Harris  —  a  name 
very  honourably  borne  —  our  family  name  is  Guevara. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  105 

My  ancestor  was  a  cousin  of  the  bravx  Lord  Wil- 
loughby.' 

'  Most  interesting  !  You  must  pardon  me,  but  as 
nobody  ever  knew  what  you  have  just  found  out,  you 
will  excuse  my  ignorance,'  said  Logan,  who,  to  be 
sure,  had  never  heard  of  the  brave  Lord  Willoughby. 

'  It  is  I  who  ought  to  apologise,'  said  the  visitor. 
'  Your  mention  of  the  name  of  Harris  appeared  to  me 
to  indicate  a  frivolity  as  to  matters  of  the  past  which, 
I  must  confess,  is  apt  to  make  me  occasionally  forget 
myself.  Noblesse  oblige,  you  know :  we  respect  our- 
selves —  in  our  progenitors.' 

'  Unless  he  wants  to  prevent  someone  from  marry- 
ing his  great-grandmother,  I  wonder  what  he  is  doing 
with  his  Tales  of  a  Grandfather  here^  thought  Logan, 
but  he  only  smiled,  and  said,  'Assuredly  —  my  own 
opinion.     I  wish  I  could  respect  my  ancestor !  ' 

'  The  gentleman  of  whom  I  speak,  the  associate  of 
your  own  distant  progenitor,  was  the  founder  of  our 
house,  as  far  as  mere  titles  are  concerned.  We  were 
but  squires  of  Northumbria,  of  ancient  Celtic  descent, 
before  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  My  ancestor  at 
that  time ' 

'  Oh  bother  his  pedigree  !  '  thought  Logan. 

' was  a  young  officer  in  the  English  garrison 

of  Berwick,  and  he,  I  find,  was  your  ancestor's  un- 
known correspondent.  I  am  not  skilled  in  reading  old 
hands,  and  I  am  anxious  to  secure  a  trustworthy 
person  —  really  trustworthy  —  to  transcribe  the  manu- 
scripts which  contain  these  exciting  details.' 

Logan  thought  that  the  office  of  the  Disentanglers 
was  hardly  the  place  to  come  to  in  search  of  an  his- 


io6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

torical  copyist.  However,  he  remembered  Miss 
Willoughby,  and  said  that  he  knew  a  lady  of  great 
skill  and  industry,  of  good  family  too,  upon  whom 
his  client  might  entirely  depend.  '  She  is  a  Miss 
Willoughby,'  he  added. 

'  Not  one  of  the  Willoughbys  of  the  Wicket,  a  most 
worthy,  though  unfortunate  house,  nearly  allied,  as  I 
told  you,  to  my  own,  about  three  hundred  years  ago?' 
said  the  Earl. 

'Yes,  she  is  a  daughter  of  the  last  squire.' 

*  Ruined  in  the  modern  race  for  wealth,  like  so 
many ! '  exclaimed  the  peer,  and  he  sat  in  silence, 
deeply  moved ;  his  lips  formed  a  name  familiar  to 
Law  Courts. 

'Excuse  my  emotion,  Mr.  Logan,'  he  went  on. 
'  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  and  arrange  with  this  lady, 
who,  I  trust  will,  as  my  cousin,  accept  my  hospitality  at 
Rookchester.  I  shall  be  deeply  interested,  as  you,  no 
doubt,  will  also  be,  in  the  result  of  her  researches  into 
an  affair  which  so  closely  concerns  both  you  and  me.' 

He  was  silent  again,  musing  deeply,  while  Logan 
marvelled  more  and  more  what  his  real  original 
business  might  be.  All  this  affair  of  the  docu- 
ments and  the  muniment-room  had  arisen  by  the 
merest  accident,  and  would  not  have  arisen  if  the 
Earl  had  found  Merton  at  home.  The  Earl  obvi- 
ously had  a  difficulty  in  coming  to  the  point:  many 
clients  had.  To  approach  a  total  stranger  on  the 
most  intimate  domestic  affairs  (even  if  his  ancestor 
and  yours  were  in  a  big  thing  together  three  hundred 
years  ago)  is,  to  a  sensitive  patrician,  no  easy  task. 
In  fact,  even  members  of  the  middle  class  were,  as 
clients,  occasionally  affected  by  shyness. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   EXEMPLARY   EARL     107 

'  Mr.  Logan,'  said  the  Earl,  '  I  am  not  a  man  of  to- 
day. The  cupidity  of  our  age,  the  eagerness  with 
which  wealthy  aliens  are  welcomed  into  our  best 
houses  and  families,  is  to  me,  I  may  say,  distasteful. 
Better  that  our  coronets  were  dimmed  than  that  they 
should  be  gilded  with  the  gold  eagles  of  Chicago  or 
blazing  with  the  diamonds  of  Kimberley.  My  feel- 
ings on  this  point  are  unusually  —  I  do  not  think  that 
they  are  unduly  —  acute.' 

Logan  murmured  assent. 

'  I  am  poor,'  said  the  Earl,  with  all  the  expansive- 
ness  of  the  shy ;  '  but  I  never  held  what  is  called  a 
share  in  my  life.' 

'  It  is  long,'  said  Logan,  with  perfect  truth,  '  since 
anything  of  that  sort  was  in  my  own  possession.  In 
that  respect  my  'scutcheon,  so  to  speak,  is  without  a 
stain.' 

'  How  fortunate  I  am  to  have  fallen  in  with  one  of 
sentiments  akin  to  my  own,  unusual  as  they  are  !  ' 
said  the  Earl.  '  I  am  a  widower,'  he  went  on,  '  and 
have  but  one  son  and  one  daughter.' 

'  He  is  coming  to  business  now,'  thought  Logan. 

'  The  former,  I  fear,  is  as  good  almost  as  affianced 
—  is  certainly  in  peril  of  betrothal  —  to  a  lady  against 
whom  I  have  not  a  word  to  say,  except  that  she  is 

inordinately  wealthy,  the  sole  heiress  of '     Here 

the  Earl  gasped,  and  was  visibly  affected.  'You  may 
have  heard,  sir,'  the  patrician  went  on,  '  of  a  commer- 
cial transaction  of  nature  unfathomable  to  myself — 
I  have  not  sought  for  information,'  he  waved  his  hand 
impatiently,  '  a  transaction  called  a  Straddle?  ' 

Logan  murmured  that  he  was  aware  of  the  exist- 


io8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ence  of  the  phrase,  though  unconscious  of  its  pre- 
cise meaning. 

*  The  lady's  wealth  is  based  on  a  successful  Strad- 
dle, operated  by  her  only  known  male  ancestor,  in 
—  Bristles  —  Hogs'  Bristles  and  Lard,'  said  the  Earl. 

'  Miss  Bangs ! '  exclaimed  Logan,  knowing  the 
name,  wealth,  and  the  source  of  the  wealth  of  the 
ruling  Chicago  heiress  of  the  day. 

'  I  am  to  be  understood  to  speak  of  Miss  Bangs  — 
as  her  name  has  been  pronounced  between  us  —  with 
all  the  respect  due  to  youth,  beauty,  and  an  amiable 
disposition,'  said  the  peer;  'but  Bristles,  Mr.  Logan, 
Hogs'  Bristles  and  Lard.     And  a  Straddle !  ' 

'  Lucky  devil,  Scremerston,'  thought  Logan,  for 
Scremerston  was  the  only  son  of  Lord  Embleton, 
and  he,  as  it  seemed,  had  secured  that  coveted  prize 
of  the  youth  of  England,  the  heart  of  the  opulent 
Miss  Bangs.  But  Logan  only  sighed  and  stared  at 
the  wall  as  one  who  hears  of  an  irremediable  disaster. 

'  If  they  really  were  betrothed,'  said  Lord  Emble- 
ton, *  I  would  have  nothing  to  say  or  do  in  the  way  of 
terminating  the  connection,  however  unwelcome.  A 
man's  word  is  his  word.  It  is  in  these  circumstan- 
ces of  doubt  (when  the  fortunes  of  a  house  ancient, 
though  titularly  of  mere  Tudor  noblesse,  hang  in  the 
balance)  that,  despairing  of  other  help,  I  have  come 
to  you.' 

'  But,'  asked  Logan,  '  have  things  gone  so  very 
far?  Is  the  disaster  irremediable?  I  am  acquainted 
with  your  son,  Lord  Scremerston;  in  fact,  he  was 
my  fag  at  school.     May  I  speak  quite  freely?' 

'  Certainly;   you  will  obhge  me.' 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  109 

*  Well,  by  the  candour  of  early  friendship,  Scremer- 
ston  was  called  the  Arcadian,  an  allusion  to  a  certain 
tenderness  of  heart  allied  with — h'm  —  a  rather 
confident  and  sanguine  disposition.  I  think  it  may 
console  you  to  reflect  that  perhaps  he  rather  over- 
estimates his  success  with  the  admirable  young  lady 
of  whom  we  spoke.  You  are  not  certain  that  she 
has  accepted  him?' 

'No,'  said  the  Earl,  obviously  relieved.  'I  am 
sure  that  he  has  not  positively  proposed  to  her. 
He  knows  my  opinion :  he  is  a  dutiful  son,  but  he 
did  seem  very  confident  —  seemed  to  think  that  his 
honour  was  engaged.' 

*I  think  we  may  discount  that  a  little,'  said  Logan, 
'  and  hope  for  the  best.' 

'  I  shall  try  to  take  that  view,'  said  the  Earl.  '  You 
console  me  infinitely,  Mr.  Logan.' 

Logan  was  about  to  speak  again,  when  his  client 
held  up  a  gently  deprecating  hand. 

'  That  is  not  all,  Mr.  Logan.    I  have  a  daughter ' 

Logan  chanced  to  be  slightly  acquainted  with  the 
daughter,  Lady  Alice  Guevara,  a  very  nice  girl. 

'  Is  she  attached  to  a  South  African  Jew?'  Logan 
thought. 

'  In  this  case,'  said  the  client,  '  there  is  no  want 
of  blood  ;  Royal  in  origin,  if  it  comes  to  that.  To 
the  House  of  Bourbon  I  have  no  objection,  in  itself, 
that  would  be  idle  affectation.' 

Logan  gasped. 

Was  this  extraordinary  man  anxious  to  reject  a 
lady  'multi-millionaire'  for  his  son,  and  a  crown 
of  some  sort  or  other  for  his  daughter? 


no  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  But  the  stain  of  ill-gotten  gold  —  silver  too  —  is 
ineffaceable.' 

'  It  really  cannot  be  Bristles  this  time,'  thought 
Logan. 

'  And  a  dynasty  based  on  the  roulette-table,  .  .  .' 

'  Oh,  the  Prince  of  Scalastro  !  '  cried  Logan. 

'  I  see  that  you  know  the  worst,'  said  the  Earl. 

Logan  knew  the  worst  fairly  well.  The  Prince  of 
Scalastro  owed  a  percentage  of  two  or  three  thousand 
which  Logan  had  dropped  at  the  tables  licensed  in 
his  principality. 

'  To  the  Prince,  personally,  I  bear  no  ill-will,'  said 
the  Earl.  '  He  is  young,  brave,  scientific,  accom- 
plished, and  this  unfortunate  attachment  began 
before  he  inherited  his  —  h'm  —  dominions.  I  fear 
it  is,  on  both  sides,  a  deep  and  passionate  sentiment. 
And  now,  Mr.  Logan,  you  know  the  full  extent  of 
my  misfortunes :  what  course  does  your  experience 
recommend  ?  I  am  not  a  harsh  father.  Could  I 
disinherit  Scremerston,  which  I  cannot,  the  loss 
would  not  be  felt  by  him  in  the  circumstances.  As 
to  my  daughter ' 

The  peer  rose  and  w^alked  to  the  window.  When 
he  came  back  and  resumed  his  seat,  Logan  turned 
on  him  a  countenance  of  mournful  sympathy.  The 
Earl  silently  extended  his  hand,  which  Logan  took. 
On  few  occasions  had  a  strain  more  severe  been 
placed  on  his  gravity,  but,  unlike  a  celebrated  diplo- 
matist, he  '  could  command  his  smile.' 

'Your  case,'  he  said,  '  is  one  of  the  most  singular, 
delicate,  and  distressing  which  I  have  met  in  the 
course   of  my  experience.     There    is   no    objection 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  iii 

to  character,  and  poverty  is  not  the  impediment : 
the  reverse.  You  will  permit  me,  no  doubt,  to  con- 
sult my  partner,  Mr.  Merton ;  we  have  naturally  no 
secrets  between  us,  and  he  possesses  a  delicacy  of 
touch  and  a  power  of  insight  which  I  can  only 
regard  with  admiring  envy.  It  was  he  who  carried 
to  a  successful  issue  that  difficult  case  in  the  family  of 
the  Sultan  of  Mingrelia  (you  will  observe  that  I  use 
a  fictitious  name).  I  can  assure  you,  Lord  Emble- 
ton,  that  polygamy  presents  problems  almost  insolu- 
ble ;  problems  of  extreme  delicacy —  or  indelicacy.' 

'  I  had  not  heard  of  that  affair,'  said  the  Earl. 
'  Like  Eumseus  in  Homer  and  in  Mr.  Stephen 
Phillips,  I  dwell  among  the  swine,  and  come  rarely 
to  the  city.' 

'  The  matter  never  went  beyond  the  inmost  diplo- 
matic circles,'  said  Logan.  'The  Sultan's  favourite 
son,  the  Jam,  or  Crown  Prince,  of  Mingrelia  {Jam- 
real,  they  called  him),  loved  four  beautiful  Bolla- 
chians,  sisters  —  again  I  disguise  the  nationahty.' 

'Sisters!'  exclaimed  the  peer;  'I  have  always 
given  my  vote  against  the  Deceased  Wife's  Sister 
Bill ;  but  four,  and  all  alive  ! ' 

'  The  law  of  the  Prophet,  as  you  are  aware,  is 
not  monogamous,'  said  Logan ;  '  and  the  Eastern 
races  are  not  averse  to  connections  which  are  repro- 
bated by  our  Western  ideas.  The  real  difficulty  was 
that  of  religion. 

'  Oh,  why  from  the  heretic  girl  of  my  soul 
Should  I  fly,  to  seek  elsewhere  an  orthodox  kiss .'' ' 

hummed  Logan,  rather  to  the  surprise  of  Lord 
Embleton.     He  went  on :    '  It  is  not  so  much   that 


112  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

the  Mingrelians  object  to  mixed  marriages  in  the 
matter  of  religion,  but  the  Bollachians,  being  Chris- 
tians, do  object,  and  have  a  horror  of  polygamy. 
It  was  a  cruel  affair.  All  four  girls,  and  the  Jamreal 
himself,  were  passionately  attached  to  each  other. 
It  was  known,  too,  that,  for  political  reasons,  the 
maidens  had  received  a  dispensation  from  the  lead- 
ing Archimandrite,  their  metropolitan,  to  marry  the 
proud  Paynim.  The  Mingrelian  Sultan  is  suzerain 
of  Bollachia;  his  native  subjects  are  addicted  to 
massacring  the  Bollachians  from  religious  motives, 
and  the  Bollachian  Church  (Nestorians,  as  you 
know)  hoped  that  the  four  brides  would  convert 
the  Jamreal  to  their  creed,  and  so  solve  the  Bolla- 
chian question.  The  end,  they  said,  justified  the 
means.' 

'  Jesuitical,'  said  the  Earl,  shaking  his  head  sadly. 

'That  is  what  my  friend  and  partner,  Mr.  Merton, 
thought,'  said  Logan,  '  when  we  were  applied  to  by 
the  Sultan.  Merton  displayed  extraordinary  tact 
and  address.  All  was  happily  settled,  the  Sultan 
and  the  Jamreal  were  reconciled,  the  young  ladies 
met  other  admirers,  and  learned  that  what  they  had 
taken  for  love  was  but  a  momentary  infatuation.' 

The  Earl  sighed,  '  Renovare  dolorem  !  My  family,' 
said  he,  '  is,  and  has  long  been  —  ever  since  the 
Gunpowder  Plot  —  firmly,  if  not  passionately,  at- 
tached to  the  Church  of  England.  The  Prince  of 
Scalastro  is  a  Catholic' 

'  Had  we  a  closer  acquaintance  with  the  parties 
concerned  ! '  murmured  Logan. 

'  You  must  come  and  visit  us  at  Rookchester,'  said 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   EXEMPLARY   EARL     113 

the  Earl.  '  In  any  case  I  am  most  anxious  to  know 
better  one  whose  ancestor  was  so  closely  connected 
with  my  own.  We  shall  examine  my  documents 
under  the  tuition  of  the  lady  you  mentioned,  Miss 
Willoughby,  if  she  will  accept  the  hospitality  of 
a  kinsman.' 

Logan  murmured  acquiescence,  and  again  asked 
permission  to  consult  Merton,  which  was  granted. 
The  Earl  then  shook  hands  and  departed,  obviously 
somewhat  easier  in  his  mind. 

This  remarkable  conversation  was  duly  reported 
by  Logan  to  Merton. 

'  What  are  we  to  do  next  ? '  asked  Logan. 

'Why  you  can  do  nothing  but  reconnoitre.  Go 
down  to  Rookchester.  It  is  in  Northumberland,  on 
the  Coquet — a  pretty  place,  but  there  is  no  fishing 
just  now.  Then  we  must  ask  Lord  Embleton  to 
meet  Miss  Willoughby.  The  interview  can  be  here: 
Miss  Willoughby  will  arrive,  chaperoned  by  Miss 
Blossom,  after  the  Earl  makes  his  appearance.' 

*  That  will  do,  as  far  as  his  bothering  old  manu- 
scripts are  concerned;  but  how  about  the  real 
business — the  two  undesirable  marriages?' 

'  We  must  first  see  how  the  land  lies.  I  do  not 
know  any  of  the  lovers.  What  sort  of  fellow  is 
Scremerston? ' 

'  Nothing  remarkable  about  him  —  good,  plucky, 
vain  little  fellow.  I  suppose  he  wants  money,  like 
the  rest  of  the  world :  but  his  father  won't  let  him 
be  a  director  of  anything,  though  he  is  in  the  House 
and  his  name  would  look  well  on  a  list.' 

'  So  he  wants  to  marry  dollars?' 
8 


114  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  suppose  he  has  no  objection  to  them;  but  have 
you  seen  Miss  Bangs?' 

'  I  don't  remember  her,'  said  Merton, 

'Then  you  have  not  seen  her.  She  is  beautiful,  by 
Jove ;  and,  I  fancy,  clever  and  nice,  and  gives  herself 
no  airs.' 

'  And  she  has  all  that  money,  and  yet  the  old 
gentleman  objects !  ' 

'  He  can  not  stand  the  bristles  and  lard,'  said 
Logan. 

'Then  the  Prince  of  Scalastro  —  him  I  have  come 
across.  You  would  never  take  him  for  a  foreigner,' 
said  Merton,  bestowing  on  the  Royal  youth  the 
highest  compliment  which  an  Englishman  can  pay, 
but  adding,  '  only  he  is  too  intelligent  and  knows  too 
much.' 

'  No ;  there  is  nothing  the  matter  with  him'  Logan 
admitted  —  'nothing  but  happening  to  inherit  a 
gambling  establishment  and  the  garden  it  stands  in. 
He  is  a  scientific  character  —  a  scientific  soldier.  I 
wish  we  had  a  few  like  him.' 

'  Well,  it  is  a  hard  case,'  said  Merton.  *  They  all 
seem  to  be  very  good  sort  of  people.  And  Lady 
Alice  Guevara?  I  hardly  know  her  at  all;  but  she  is 
pretty  enough  —  tall,  yellow  hair,  brown  eyes.' 

'  And  as  good  a  girl  as  lives,'  added  Logan.  '  Very 
religious,  too.' 

'  She  won't  change  her  creed?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  She  would  go  to  the  stake  for  it,'  said  Logan. 
'  She  is  more  likely  to  convert  the  Prince.' 

'That  would  be  one  difificulty  out  of  the  way,'  said 
Merton.     'But  the  gambling  estabhshment?     There 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  115 

is  the  rub !  And  the  usual  plan  won't  work.  You 
are  a  captivating  person,  Logan,  but  I  do  not  think 
that  you  could  attract  Lady  Alice's  affections  and 
disentangle  her  in  that  way.  Besides,  the  Prince 
would  have  you  out.  Then  Miss  Bangs'  dollars,  not 
to  mention  herself,  must  have  too  strong  a  hold  on 
Scremerston.  It  really  looks  too  hard  a  case  for  us 
on  paper.     You  must  go  down  and  reconnoitre.' 

Logan  agreed,  and  wrote  asking  Lord  Embleton 
to  come  to  the  office,  where  he  could  see  Miss 
Willoughby  and  arrange  about  her  visit  to  him  and 
his  manuscripts.  The  young  lady  was  invited  to 
arrive  rather  later,  bringing  Miss  Blossom  as  her 
companion. 

On  the  appointed  day  Logan  and  Merton  awaited 
Lord  Embleton.  He  entered  with  an  air  unwontedly 
buoyant,  and  was  introduced  to  Merton.  The  first 
result  was  an  access  of  shyness.  The  Earl  hummed, 
began  sentences,  dropped  them,  and  looked  patheti- 
cally at  Logan.  Merton  understood.  The  Earl  had 
taken  to  Logan  (on  account  of  their  hereditary 
partnership  in  an  ancient  iniquity),  and  it  was  obvious 
that  he  would  say  to  him  what  he  would  not  say  to 
his  partner.  Merton  therefore  withdrew  to  the  outer 
room  (they  had  met  in  the  inner),  and  the  Earl  de- 
livered himself  to  Logan  in  a  little  speech. 

'Since  we  met,  Mr.  Logan,'  said  he,  'a  very  fortunate 
event  has  occurred.  The  Prince  of  Scalastro,  in  a 
private  interview,  has  done  me  the  honour  to  take 
me  into  his  confidence.  He  asked  my  permission  to 
pay  his  addresses  to  my  daughter,  and  informed  me 
that,  finding  his  ownership  of  the  gambling  establish- 


ii6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

merit  distasteful  to  her,  he  had  determined  not  to 
renew  the  lease  to  the  company.  He  added  that 
since  his  boyhood,  having  been  educated  in  Germany, 
he  had  entertained  scruples  about  the  position  which 
he  would  one  day  occupy,  that  he  had  never  entered 
the  rooms  (that  haunt  of  vice),  and  that  his  acquaint- 
ance with  my  daughter  had  greatly  increased  his 
objections  to  gambling,  though  his  scruples  were 
not  approved  of  by  his  confessor,  a  very  learned 
priest.' 

*  That  is  curious,'  said  Logan. 

'  Very,'  said  the  Earl.  *  But  as  I  expect  the  Prince 
and  his  confessor  at  Rookchester,  where  I  hope  you 
will  join  us,  we  may  perhaps  find  out  the  reasons 
which  actuate  that  no  doubt  respectable  person.  In 
the  meantime,  as  I  would  constrain  nobody  in  matters 
of  religion,  I  informed  the  Prince  that  he  had  my 
permission  to — well,  to  plead  his  cause  for  himself 
with  Lady  Alice.' 

Logan  warmly  congratulated  the  Earl  on  the  grati- 
fying resolve  of  the  Prince,  and  privately  wondered 
how  the  young  people  would  support  hfe,  when 
deprived  of  the  profits  from  the  tables. 

It  was  manifest,  however,  from  the  buoyant  air  of 
the  Earl,  that  this  important  question  had  never 
crossed  his  mind.  He  looked  quite  young  in  the 
gladness  of  his  heart,  '  he  smelled  April  and  May,'  he 
was  clad  becomingly  in  summer  raiment,  and  to 
Logan  it  was  quite  a  pleasure  to  see  such  a  happy 
man.  Some  fifteen  years  seemed  to  have  been  taken 
from  the  age  of  this  buxom  and  simple-hearted 
patrician. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    EXEMPLARY    EARL     117 

He  began  to  discuss  with  Logan  all  conceivable 
reasons  why  the  Prince's  director  had  rather  dis- 
couraged his  idea  of  closing  the  gambling-rooms  for 
ever. 

*  The  Father,  Father  Riccoboni,  is  a  Jesuit,  Mr. 
Logan,'  said  the  Earl  gravely.  '  I  would  not  be  un- 
charitable, I  hope  I  am  not  prejudiced,  but  members 
of  that  community,  I  fear,  often  prefer  what  they 
think  the  interests  of  their  Church  to  those  of  our 
common  Christianity.  A  portion  of  the  great  wealth 
of  the  Scalastros  was  annually  devoted  to  masses  for 
the  souls  of  the  players  —  about  fifteen  per  cent,  I 
believe  —  who  yearly  shoot  themselves  in  the  gardens 
of  the  establishment.' 

'  No  more  suicides,  no  more  subscriptions,  I  sup- 
pose,' said  Logan ;  '  but  the  practice  proved  that  the 
reigning  Princes  of  Scalastro  had  feeling  hearts.' 

While  the  Earl  developed  this  theme.  Miss  Wil- 
loughby,  accompanied  by  Miss  Blossom,  had  joined 
Merton  in  the  outer  room.  Miss  Blossom,  being 
clad  in  white,  with  her  blue  eyes  and  apple-blossom 
complexion,  looked  like  the  month  of  May.  But 
Merton  could  not  but  be  struck  by  Miss  Willoughby. 
She  was  tall  and  dark,  with  large  grey  eyes,  a  Greek 
profile,  and  a  brow  which  could,  on  occasion,  be 
thunderous  and  lowering,  so  that  Miss  Willoughby 
seemed  to  all  a  remarkably  fine  young  woman; 
while  the  educated  spectator  was  involuntarily  re- 
minded of  the  beautiful  sister  of  the  beautiful 
Helen,  the  celebrated  Clytemnestra.  The  young  lady 
was  clad  in  very  dark  blue,  with  orange  points, 
so  to  speak,   and  compared  with  her  transcendent 


ii8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

beauty,  Miss  Blossom,  as  Logan  afterwards  remarked, 
seemed  a 

'Wee  modest  crimson-tippit  beastie,' 

he  intending  to  quote  the  poet  Burns. 

After  salutations,  Merton  remarked  to  Miss  Blos- 
som that  her  well-known  discretion  might  prompt 
her  to  take  a  seat  near  the  window  while  he  dis- 
cussed private  business  with  Miss  Willoughby.  The 
good-humoured  girl  retired  to  contemplate  life  from 
the  casement,  while  Merton  rapidly  laid  the  nature 
of  Lord  Embleton's  affairs  before  the  other  lady. 

'  You  go  down  to  Rookchester  as  a  kinswoman 
and  a  guest,  you  understand,  and  to  do  the  business 
of  the  manuscripts.' 

'  Oh,  I  shall  rather  like  that  than  otherwise,'  said 
Miss  Willoughby,  smiling. 

'Then,  as  to  the  regular  business  of  the  Society, 
there  is  a  Prince  who  seems  to  be  thought  unworthy 
of  the  daughter  of  the  house ;  and  the  son  of  the 
house  needs  disentangling  from  an  American  heiress 
of  great  charm  and  wealth,' 

'  The  tasks  might  satisfy  any  ambition,'  said  Miss 
Willoughby.  *  Is  the  idea  that  the  Prince  and  the 
Viscount  should  both  neglect  their  former  flames?' 

'  And  burn  incense  at  the  altar  of  Venus  Verti- 
cordia,'  said  Merton,  with  a  bow. 

'It  is  a  large  order,'  replied  Miss  Willoughby, 
in  the  simple  phrase  of  a  commercial  age :  but  as 
Merton  looked  at  her,  and  remembered  the  vindic- 
tive feeling  with  which  she  now  regarded  his  sex, 
he  thought  that  she,  if  anyone,  was  capable  of  exe- 


THE   EARI,    IS    CHARMED   WITH   MISS    WILLOUGHBY, 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    EXEMPLARY    EARL     119 

cuting  the  commission.  He  was  not,  of  course, 
as  yet  aware  of  the  moral  resolution  lately  arrived 
at  by  the  young  potentate  of  Scalastro. 

'  The  manuscripts  are  the  first  thing,  of  course,' 
he  said,  and,  as  he  spoke,  Logan  and  Lord  Embleton 
re-entered  the  room, 

Merton  presented  the  Earl  to  the  ladies,  and  Miss 
Blossom  soon  retired  to  her  own  apartment,  and 
wrestled  with  the  correspondence  of  the  Society  and 
with  her  typewriting-machine. 

The  Earl  proved  not  to  be  nearly  so  shy  where 
ladies  were  concerned.  He  had  not  expected  to 
find  in  his  remote  and  long-lost  cousin,  Miss  Wil- 
loughby,  a  magnificent  being  like  Persephone  on 
a  coin  of  Syracuse,  but  it  was  plain  that  he  was 
prepossessed  in  her  favour,  and  there  was  a  touch 
of  the  afifectionate  in  his  courtesy.  After  congratu- 
lating himself  on  recovering  a  kinswoman  of  a  long- 
separated  branch  of  his  family,  and  after  a  good  deal 
of  genealogical  disquisition,  he  explained  the  nature 
of  the  lady's  historical  tasks,  and  engaged  her  to 
visit  him  in  the  country  at  an  early  date.  Miss 
Willoughby  then  said  farewell,  having  an  engage- 
ment at  the  Record  Office,  where,  as  the  Earl 
gallantly  observed,  she  would  '  make  a  sunshine  in 
a  shady  place.' 

When  she  had  gone,  the  Earl  observed,  '  B071  sang 
ne  pent  pas  mentir!  To  think  of  that  beautiful  crea- 
ture condemned  to  waste  her  lovely  eyes  on  faded 
ink  and  yellow  papers !  Why,  she  is,  as  the  modern 
poet  says,  "  a  sight  to  make  an  old  man  young.'" 

He  then  asked    Logan   to  acquaint   Merton  with 


I20  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

the  new  and  favourable  aspect  of  his  affairs,  and, 
after  fixing  Logan's  visit  to  Rookchester  for  the 
same  date  as  Miss  Willoughby's,  he  went  off  with 
a  juvenile  alertness. 

'  I  say,'  said  Logan,  '  I  don't  know  what  will  come 
of  this,  but  something  will  come  of  it.  I  had  no 
idea  that  girl  was  such  a  paragon.' 

'  Take  care,  Logan,*  said  Merton.  '  You  ought 
only  to  have  eyes  for  Miss  Markham.' 

Miss  Markham,  the  precise  student  may  remember, 
was  the  lady  once  known  as  the  Venus  of  Milo  to 
her  young  companions  at  St.  Ursula's.  Now  mantles 
were  draped  on  her  stately  shoulders  at  Madame 
Claudine's,  and  Logan  and  she  were  somewhat  hope- 
lessly attached  to  each  other. 

'  Take  care  of  yourself  at  Rookchester,'  Merton 
went  on,   '  or  the  Disentangler  may  be  entangled.' 

'  I  am  not  a  viscount  and  I  am  not  an  earl,'  said 
Logan,  with  a  reminiscence  of  an  old  popular  song, 
'  nor  I  am  not  a  prince,  but  a  shade  or  two  wuss  ; 
and  I  think  that  Miss  Willoughby  will  find  other 
marks  for  the  artillery  of  her  eyes.' 

'  We  shall  have  news  of  it,'  said  Merton. 

//.    The  A  if  air  of  the  Jesuit 

Trains  do  not  stop  at  the  little  Rookchester  station 
except  when  the  high  and  puissant  prince  the  Earl 
of  Embleton  or  his  visitors,  or  his  ministers,  servants, 
solicitors,  and  agents  of  all  kinds,  are  bound  for  that 
haven.  When  Logan  arrived  at  the  station,  a  bow- 
ery, flowery,  amateur-looking  depot,  like  one  of  the 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  121 

*  model  villages '  that  we  sometimes  see  off  the  stage, 
he  was  met  by  the  Earl,  his  son  Lord  Scremerston, 
and  Miss  Willoughby.  Logan's  baggage  was  spirited 
away  by  menials,  who  doubtless  bore  it  to  the  house 
in  some  ordinary  conveyance,  and  by  the  vulgar  road. 
But  Lord  Embleton  explained  that  as  the  evening 
was  warm,  and  the  woodland  path  by  the  river  was 
cool,  they  had  walked  down  to  welcome  the  coming 
guest. 

The  walk  was  beautiful  indeed  along  the  top  of  the 
precipitous  red  sandstone  cliffs,  with  the  deep,  dark 
pools  of  the  Coquet  sleeping  far  below.  Now  and 
then  a  heron  poised,  or  a  rock  pigeon  flew  by,  be- 
tween the  river  and  the  cliff-top.  The  opposite  bank 
was  embowered  in  deep  green  wood,  and  the  place  was 
very  refreshing  after  the  torrid  bricks  and  distressing 
odours  of  the  July  streets  of  London. 

The  path  was  narrow  :  there  was  room  for  only  two 
abreast.  Miss  Willoughby  and  Scremerston  led  the 
way,  and  were  soon  lost  to  sight  by  a  turn  in  the 
path.  As  for  Lord  Embleton,  he  certainly  seemed 
to  have  drunk  of  that  fountain  of  youth  about  which 
the  old  French  poet  Pontus  de  Tyard  reports  to  us, 
and  to  be  going  back,  not  forward,  in  age.  He 
looked  very  neat,  slim,  and  cool,  but  that  could  not 
be  the  only  cause  of  the  miracle  of  rejuvenescence. 
Closely  regarding  his  host  in  profile,  Logan  remarked 
that  he  had  shaved  off  his  moustache  and  the  little, 
obsolete,  iron-grey  chin-tuft  which,  in  moments  of 
perplexity,  he  had  been  wont  to  twiddle.  Its  loss 
was  certainly  a  very  great  improvement  to  the  clean- 
cut  features  of  this  patrician. 


122  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  We  are  a  very  small  party,'  said  Lord  Embleton, 
•  only  the  Prince,  my  daughter,  Father  Riccoboni, 
Miss  Willoughby,  my  sister,  Scremerston,  and  you 
and  I.  Miss  Willoughby  came  last  week.  In  the 
mornings  she  and  I  are  busy  with  the  manuscripts. 
We  have  found  most  interesting  things.  When  their 
plot  failed,  your  ancestor  and  mine  prepared  a  ship 
to  start  for  the  Western  seas  and  attack  the  treasure- 
ships  of  Spain.  But  peace  broke  out,  and  they  never 
achieved  that  adventure.  Miss  Willoughby  is  a 
cousin  well  worth  discovering,  so  intelligent,  and  so 
wonderfully  attractive.' 

'  So  Scremerston  seems  to  think,'  was  Logan's  idea, 
for  the  further  he  and  the  Earl  advanced,  the  less,  if 
possible,  they  saw  of  the  pair  in  front  of  them ;  in- 
deed, neither  was  visible  again  till  the  party  met 
before  dinner. 

However,  Logan  only  said  that  he  had  a  great 
esteem  for  Miss  Willoughby's  courage  and  industry 
through  the  trying  years  of  poverty  since  she  left  St. 
Ursula's. 

'  The  Prince  we  have  not  seen  very  much  of,'  said 
the  Earl,  '  as  is  natural ;  for  you  will  be  glad  to  know 
that  everything  seems  most  happily  arranged,  except 
so  far  as  the  religious  difficulty  goes.  As  for  Father 
Riccoboni,  he  is  a  quiet  intelligent  man,  who  passes 
most  of  his  time  in  the  library,  but  makes  himself 
very  agreeable  at  meals.  And  now  here  we  are 
arrived.' 

They  had  reached  the  south  side  of  the  house  —  an 
eighteenth-century  building  in  the  red  sandstone  of 
the  district,  giving  on  a  grassy  terrace.     There  the 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  123 

host's  maiden  sister,  Lady  Mary  Guevara,  was  seated 
by  a  tea-table,  surrounded  by  dogs  —  two  collies  and 
an  Aberdeenshire  terrier.  Beside  her  were  Father 
Riccoboni,  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand.  Lady  Alice, 
with  whom  Logan  had  already  some  acquaintance, 
and  the  Prince  of  Scalastro.  Logan  was  presented, 
and  took  quiet  notes  of  the  assembly,  while  the  usual 
chatter  about  the  weather  and  his  journey  got  itself 
transacted,  and  the  view  of  the  valley  of  the  Coquet 
had  justice  done  to  its  charms. 

Lady  Mary  was  very  like  a  feminine  edition  of  the 
Earl,  refined,  shy,  and  with  silvery  hair.  Lady  Alice 
was  a  pretty,  quiet  type  of  the  English  girl  who  is  not 
up  to  date,  with  a  particularly  happy  and  winning  ex- 
pression. The  Prince  was  of  a  Teutonic  fairness ;  for 
the  Royal  caste,  whatever  the  nationality,  is  to  a  great 
extent  made  in  Germany,  and  retains  the  physical 
characteristics  of  that  ancient  forest  people  whom  the 
Roman  historian  (never  having  met  them)  so  lovingly 
ideahsed.  The  Prince  was  tall,  well-proportioned, 
and  looked  *  every  inch  a  soldier.'  There  were  a 
great  many  inches. 

As  for  Father  Riccoboni,  the  learned  have  remarked 
that  there  are  two  chief  clerical  types :  the  dark, 
ascetic  type,  to  be  found  equally  among  Unitarians, 
Baptists,  Anglicans,  Presbyterians,  and  Catholics,  and 
the  burly,  well-fed,  genial  type,  which  'cometh  eat- 
ing and  drinking.'  The  Father  was  of  this  second 
kind ;  a  lusty  man  —  not  that  you  could  call  him  a 
sensual-looking  man,  still  less  was  he  a  noisy  humour- 
ist ;  but  he  had  a  considerable  jowl,  a  strong  jaw,  a 
wide,  firm  mouth,  and  large  teeth,  very  white  and 


124  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

square.  Logan  thought  that  he,  too,  had  the  mak- 
ings of  a  soldier,  and  also  felt  almost  certain  that  he 
had  seen  him  before.  But  where  ?  —  for  Logan's 
acquaintance  with  the  clergy,  especially  the  foreign 
clergy,  was  not  extensive.  The  Father  spoke  Eng- 
lish very  well,  with  a  slight  German  accent  and  a 
little  hoarseness;  his  voice,  too,  did  not  sound  un- 
familiar to  Logan.  But  he  delved  in  his  subconscious 
memory  in  vain ;  there  was  the  Father,  a  man  with 
whom  he  certainly  had  some  associations,  yet  he 
could  not  place  the  man. 

A  bell  jangled  somewhere  without  as  they  took  tea 
and  tattled ;  and,  looking  towards  the  place  whence 
the  sound  came,  Logan  saw  a  little  group  of  Italian 
musicians  walking  down  the  avenue  which  led  through 
the  park  to  the  east  side  of  the  house  and  the 
main  entrance.  They  entered,  with  many  obeisances, 
through  the  old  gate  of  floreated  wrought  iron,  and 
stopping  there,  about  forty  yards  away,  they  piped, 
while  a  girl,  in  the  usual  contadina  dress,  clashed  her 
cymbals  and  danced  not  ungracefully.  The  Father, 
who  either  did  not  like  music  or  did  not  Uke  it  of 
that  sort,  sighed,  rose  from  his  seat,  and  went  into 
the  house  by  an  open  French  window.  The  Prince 
also  rose,  but  he  went  forward  to  the  group  of  Italians, 
and  spoke  to  them  for  a  few  minutes.  If  he  did  not 
like  that  sort  of  music,  he  took  the  more  excellent 
way,  for  the  action  of  his  elbow  indicated  a  move- 
ment of  his  hand  towards  his  waistcoat-pocket.  He 
returned  to  the  party  on  the  terrace,  and  the  itinerant 
artists,  after  more  obeisances,  walked  slowly  back  by 
the  way  they  had  come. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  125 

'  They  are  Genoese,'  said  the  Prince,  *  tramping 
north  to  Scotland  for  the  holiday  season.' 

'  They  will  meet  strong  competition  from  the 
pipers,'  said  Logan,  while  the  Earl  rose,  and  walked 
rapidly  after  the  musicians. 

'  I  do  not  like  the  pipes  myself,'  Logan  went  on, 
*  but  when  I  hear  them  in  a  London  street  my  heart 
does  warm  to  the  skirl  and  the  shabby  tartans.' 

'  I  feel  with  you,'  said  the  Prince,  '  when  I  see  the 
smiling  faces  of  these  poor  sons  of  the  South  among 

—  well,  your  English  faces  are  not  usually  joyous  — 
if  one  may  venture  to  be  critical.' 

He  looked  up,  and,  his  eyes  meeting  those  of  Lady 
Alice,  he  had  occasion  to  learn  that  every  rule  has  its 
exceptions.  The  young  people  rose  and  wandered 
off  on  the  lawn,  while  the  Earl  came  back  and  said 
that  he  had  invited  the  foreigners  to  refresh  themselves. 

'  I  saw  Father  Riccoboni  in  the  hall,  and  asked  him 
to  speak  to  them  a  httle  in  their  own  lingo,'  he  added, 
'  though  he  does  not  appear  to  be  partial  to  the  music 
of  his  native  land.' 

'  He  seems  to  be  of  the  Romansch  districts,'  Logan 
said  ;  '  his  accent  is  almost  German.' 

'  I  daresay  he  will  make  himself  understood,'  said 
the  Earl.  '  Do  you  understand  this  house,  Mr. 
Logan?     It  looks  very  modern,  does  it  not?' 

'  Early  Georgian,  surely?  '  said  Logan. 

*  The  shell,  at  least  on  this  side,  is  early  Georgian 

—  I  rather  regret  it ;  but  the  interior,  northward, 
except  for  the  rooms  in  front  here,  is  of  the  good  old 
times.  We  have  secret  stairs  —  not  that  there  is  any 
secret  about  them  —  and  odd    cubicles,   in   the   old 


126  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Border  keep,  which  was  re-faced  about  1750;  and  we 
have  a  priest's  hole  or  two,  in  which  Father  Ricco- 
boni  might  have  been  safe,  but  would  have  been  very 
uncomfortable,  three  hundred  years  ago.  I  can  show 
you  the  places  to-morrow ;  indeed,  we  have  very 
little  in  the  way  of  amusement  to  offer  you.  Do  you 
fish?' 

'  I  always  take  a  trout  rod  about  with  me,  in  case 
of  the  best,'  said  Logan,  'but  this  is  "  soolky  July," 
you  know,  and  the  trout  usually  seem  sound  asleep.' 

'  Their  habits  are  dissipated  here,'  said  Lord  Em- 
bleton.  '  They  begin  to  feed  about  ten  o'clock  at 
night.  Did  you  ever  try  night  fishing  with  the 
bustard  ? ' 

'  The  bustard  ?  '  asked  Logan. 

'  It  is  a  big  fluffy  fly,  like  a  draggled  mayfly,  fished 
wet,  in  the  dark,  I  used  to  be  fond  of  it,  but  age,' 
sighed  the  Earl,  '  and  fear  of  rheumatism  have  sepa- 
rated the  bustard  and  me.' 

'  I  should  like  to  try  it  very  much,'  said  Logan.  '  I 
often  fished  Tweed  and  Whitadder,  at  night,  when  I 
was  a  boy,  but  we  used  a  small  dark  fly.' 

'  You  must  be  very  careful  if  you  fish  at  night  here,' 
said  Lady  Mary.  '  It  is  so  dark  in  the  valley  under 
the  woods,  and  the  Coquet  is  so  dangerous.  The 
flat  sandstone  ledges  are  like  the  floor  of  a  room,  and 
then  a  step  may  land  you  in  water  ten  feet  deep, 
flowing  in  a  narrow  channel.  I  am  always  anxious 
when  anyone  fishes  here  at  night.     You  can  swim? ' 

Logan  confessed  that  he  was  not  destitute  of  that 
accomplishment,  and  that  he  Hked,  of  all  things,  to 
be  by  a  darkling  river,  where  you  came  across  the 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  127 

night  side  of  nature  in  the  way  of  birds,  beasts,  and 
fishes, 

'  Mr.  Logan  can  take  very  good  care  of  himself,  I 
am  sure,'  said  Lord  Embleton,  *  and  Fenwick  knows 
every  inch  of  the  water,  and  will  go  with  him.  Fen- 
wick is  the  water-keeper,  Mr.  Logan,  and  represents 
man  in  the  fishing  and  shooting  stage.  His  one 
thought  is  the  destruction  of  animal  life.  He  is  a  very 
happy  man.' 

'  I  never  knew  but  one  keeper  who  was  not,'  said 
Logan.  'That was  in  Galloway.  He  hated  shooting, 
he  hated  fishing.  My  impression  is  that  he  was  what 
we  call  a  "  Stickit  Minister."  ' 

'  Nothing  of  that  about  Fenwick,'  said  the  Earl, 
'  I  daresay  you  would  like  to  see  your  room  ?' 

Thither  Logan  was  conducted,  through  a  hall  hung 
with  pikes,  and  guns,  and  bows,  and  clubs  from  the 
South  Seas,  and  Zulu  shields  and  assegais,  while  a 
few  empty  figures  in  tilting  armour,  lance  in  hand, 
stood  on  pedestals.  Thence  up  a  broad  staircase, 
along  a  little  gallery,  up  a  few  steps  of  an  old  '  turn- 
pike '  staircase,  Logan  reached  his  room,  which  looked 
down  through  the  trees  of  the  cliff  to  the  Coquet. 

Dinner  passed  in  the  silver  light  of  the  long  north- 
ern day,  that  threw  strange  blue  reflections,  softer 
than  sapphire,  on  the  ancient  plate  —  the  ambassa- 
dorial plate  of  a  Jacobean  ancestor. 

'  It  should  all  have  gone  to  the  melting-pot  for  King 
Charles's  service,'  said  the  Earl,  with  a  sigh,  '  but  my 
ancestor  of  that  day  stood  for  the  Parliament.' 

Logan's  position  at  dinner  was  better  for  observa- 
tion than  for  entertainment.     He  sat  on  the  right  hand 


128  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

of  Lady  Mary,  where  the  Prince  ought  to  have  been 
seated,  but  Lady  Alice  sat  on  her  father's  left,  and 
next  her,  of  course,  the  Prince.  *  Love  rules  the 
camp,  the  court,  the  grove,'  and  Love  deranged  the 
accustomed  order,  for  the  Prince  sat  between  Lady 
Alice  and  Logan.  Opposite  Logan,  and  at  Lady 
Mary's  left,  was  the  Jesuit,  and  next  him,  Scremers- 
ton,  beside  whom  was  Miss  Willoughby,  on  the  Earl's 
right.  Inevitably  the  conversation  of  the  Prince  and 
LadyAlicewas  mainly  directed  to  each  other — so  much 
so  that  Logan  did  not  once  perceive  the  princely  eyes 
attracted  to  Miss  Willoughby  opposite  to  him,  though 
it  was  not  easy  for  another  to  look  at  anyone  else. 
Logan,  in  the  pauses  of  his  rather  conventional  enter- 
tainment by  Lady  Mary,  did  look,  and  he  was  amazed 
no  less  by  the  beauty  than  by  the  spirits  and  gaiety 
of  the  young  lady  so  recently  left  forlorn  by  the 
recreant  Jephson.  This  flower  of  the  Record  Office 
and  of  the  British  Museum  was  obviously  not  destined 
to  blush  unseen  any  longer.  She  manifestly  dazzled 
Scremerston,  who  seemed  to  remember  Miss  Bangs, 
her  charms,  and  her  dollars  no  more  than  Miss 
Willoughby  appeared  to  remember  the  treacherous 
Don. 

Scremerston  was  very  unlike  his  father :  he  was  a 
small,  rather  fair  man,  with  a  slight  moustache,  a 
close-clipped  beard,  and  little  grey  eyes  with  pink 
lids.  His  health  was  not  good  :  he  had  been  invalided 
home  from  the  Imperial  Yeomanry,  after  a  slight 
wound  and  a  dangerous  attack  of  enteric  fever,  and 
he  had  secured  a  pair  for  the  rest  of  the  Session. 
He  was  not  very  clever,  but  he  certainly  laughed  suf- 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  129 

ficiently  at  what  Miss  Willoughby  said,  who  also 
managed  to  entertain  the  Earl  with  great  dexterity 
and  aplomb.  Meanwhile  Logan  and  the  Jesuit  amused 
the  excellent  Lady  Mary  as  best  they  might,  which 
was  not  saying  much.  Lady  Mary,  though  extremely 
amiable,  was  far  from  brilliant,  and  never  having  met 
a  Jesuit  before,  she  regarded  Father  Riccoboni  with 
a  certain  hereditary  horror,  as  an  animal  of  a  rare 
species,  and,  of  habits  perhaps  startling  and  certainly 
perfidious.  However,  the  lady  was  philanthropic  in 
a  rural  way,  and  Father  Riccoboni  enlightened  her  as 
to  the  reasons  why  his  enterprising  countrymen  leave 
their  smiling  land,  and  open  small  ice-shops  in  Httle 
English  towns,  or,  less  ambitious,  invest  their  slender 
capital  in  a  monkey  and  a  barrel-organ. 

'  I  don't  so  very  much  mind  barrel-organs  myself,' 
said  Logan ;  '  I  don't  know  anything  prettier  than  to 
see  the  little  girls  dancing  to  the  music  in  a  London 
side  street.' 

'  But  do  not  the  musicians  all  belong  to  that  dread- 
ful Camorra  ?  '  asked  the  lady. 

'  Not  if  they  come  from  the  North,  madam,'  said 
the  Jesuit.  '  And  do  not  all  your  Irish  reapers  belong 
to  that  dreadful  Land  League,  or  whatever  it  is 
called? ' 

'  They  are  all  Pap '  said  Lady  Mary,  who  then 

stopped,  blushed,  and  said,  with  some  presence  of 

mind,  ' paupers,  I  fear,  but  they  are  quite  safe 

and  well-behaved  on  this  side  of  the  Irish  Channel' 

'And  so  are  our  poor  people,'  said  the  Jesuit.  '  If 
they  occasionally  use  the  knife  a  little  —  naturam  ex- 
pellas  furca,  Mr.   Logan,  but  the  knife  is  a  different 

9 


I30  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

thing  —  it  is  only  in  a  homely  war  among  themselves 
that  they  handle  it  in  the  East-end  of  London.' 

'  Ccelum  non  animuin,'  said  Logan,  determined  not 
to  be  outdone  in  classical  felicities ;  and,  indeed,  he 
thought  his  own  quotation  the  more  appropriate. 

At  this  moment  a  great  silvery-grey  Persian  cat, 
which  had  sat  hitherto  in  a  stereotyped  Egyptian 
attitude  on  the  arm  of  the  Earl's  chair,  leaped  down 
and  sprang  affectionately  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
Jesuit.  He  shuddered  strongly  and  obviously  re- 
pressed an  exclamation  with  difficulty,  as  he  gently 
removed  the  cat. 

'  Fie,  Meriamoun ! '  said  the  Earl,  as  the  puss 
resumed  her  Egyptian  pose  beside  him.  '  Shall  I 
send  the  animal  out  of  the  room?  I  know  some 
people  cannot  endure  a  cat,'  and  he  mentioned  the 
gallant  Field  Marshal  who  is  commonly  supposed  to 
share  this  infirmity. 

'  By  no  means,  my  lord,'  said  the  Jesuit,  who 
looked  strangely  pale.  *  Cats  have  an  extraordinary 
instinct  for  caressing  people  who  happen  to  be  born 
with  exactly  the  opposite  instinct.  I  am  like  the 
man  in  Aristotle  who  was  afraid  of  the  cat.' 

'  I  wish  we  knew  more  about  that  man,*  said  Miss 
Willoughby,  who  was  stroking  Meriamoun.  '  Are 
you  afraid  of  cats.  Lord  Scremerston?  —  but  you,  I 
suppose,  are  afraid  of  nothing.' 

'  I  am  terribly  afraid  of  all  manner  of  flying  things 
that  buzz  and  bite,'  said  Scremerston. 

'  Except  bullets,'  said  Miss  Willoughby —  Beauty  re- 
warding Valour  with  a  smile  and  a  glance  so  dazzling 
that  the  good  little  Yeoman  blushed  with  pleasure. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  131 

'It  is  a  shame  !  '  thought  Logan.  '  I  don't  hke  it 
now  I  see  it.' 

'As  to  horror  of  cats,'  said  the  Earl,  '  I  suppose 
evolution  can  explain  it.  I  wonder  how  they  would 
work  it  out  in  Science  Jottings.  There  is  a  great  deal 
of  electricity  in  a  cat.' 

'  Evolution  can  explain  everything,'  said  the  Jesuit 
demurely,  'but  who  can  explain  evolution?' 

'  As  to  electricity  in  the  cat,'  said  Logan,  '  I  dare- 
say there  is  as  much  in  the  dog,  only  everybody  has 
tried  stroking  a  cat  in  the  dark  to  see  the  sparks  fly, 
and  who  ever  tried  stroking  a  dog  in  the  dark,  for 
experimental  purposes?  —  did  you.  Lady  Mary?  ' 

Lady  Mary  never  had  tried,  but  the  idea  was  new 
to  her,  and  she  would  make  the  experiment  in  winter. 

'  Deer  skins,  stroked,  do  sparkle,'  said  Logan,  '  I 
read  that  in  a  book.  I  daresay  horses  do,  only 
nobody  tries.  I  don't  think  electricity  is  the  explan- 
ation of  why  some  people  can't  bear  cats.' 

'  Electricity  is  the  modern  explanation  of  every- 
thing—  love,  faith,  everything,'  remarked  the  Jesuit; 
'  but,  as  I  said,  who  shall  explain  electricity?' 

Lady  Mary,  recognising  the  orthodoxy  of  these 
sentiments,  felt  more  friendly  towards  Father  Ricco- 
boni.     He  might  be  a  Jesuit,  but  he  was  bien  pensant. 

'  What  I  am  afraid  of  is  not  a  cat,  but  a  mouse,' 
said  Miss  Willoughby,  and  the  two  other  ladies 
admitted  that  their  own  terrors  were  of  the  same 
kind. 

'  What  I  am  afraid  of,'  said  the  Prince, '  is  a  banging 
door,  by  day  or  night.  I  am  not,  otherwise,  of  a 
nervous  constitution,   but  if  I   hear  a  door  bang,   I 


132  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

must  go  and  hunt  for  it,  and  stop  the  noise,  either  by 
shutting  the  door,  or  leaving  it  wide  open.  I  am  a 
sound  sleeper,  but,  if  a  door  bangs,  it  wakens  me  at 
once.  I  try  not  to  notice  it.  I  hope  it  will  leave  off. 
Then  it  does  leave  off  —  that  is  the  artfulness  of  it  — 
and,  just  as  you  are  falling  asleep,  knock  it  goes  !  A 
double  knock,  sometimes.  Then  I  simply  must  get 
up,  and  hunt  for  that  door,  upstairs  or  downstairs — ' 

'  Or  in  my  — '  interrupted  Miss  Willoughby,  and 
stopped,  thinking  better  of  it,  and  not  finishing  the 
quotation,  which  passed  unheard. 

'  That  research  has  taken  me  into  some  odd  places,' 
the  Prince  ended ;  and  Logan  reminded  the  Society 
of  the  Bravest  of  the  Brave.  What  he  was  afraid  of 
was  a  pair  of  tight  boots. 

These  innocent  conversations  ended,  and,  after 
dinner,  the  company  walked  about  or  sat  beneath  the 
stars  in  the  fragrant  evening  air,  the  Earl  seated  by 
Miss  Willoughby,  Scremerston  smoking  with  Logan  ; 
while  the  white  dress  of  Lady  Alice  flitted  ghost-like 
on  the  lawn,  and  the  tip  of  the  Prince's  cigar  burned 
red  in  the  neighbourhood.  In  the  drawing-room 
Lady  Mary  was  tentatively  conversing  with  the 
Jesuit,  that  mild  but  probably  dangerous  animal. 
She  had  the  curiosity  which  pious  maiden  ladies  feel 
about  the  member  of  a  community  which  they  only 
know  through  novels.  Certainly  this  Jesuit  was  very 
unlike  Aramis. 

'And  who  is  he  like?'  Logan  happened  to  be 
asking  Scremerston  at  that  moment.  '  I  know  the 
face  —  I  know  the  voice;  hang  it! — where  have  I 
seen  the  man?' 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  133 

'  Now  you  mention  it,'  said  Scremerston, '  /  seem  to 
remember  him  too.  But  I  can't  place  him.  What  do 
you  think  of  a  game  of  billiards,  father?'  he  asked, 
rising  and  addressing  Lord  Embleton.  '  Rosamond 
—  Miss  Willoughby,  I  mean ' 

'  Oh,  we  are  cousins,  Lord  Embleton  says,  and  you 
may  call  me  Rosamond.  I  have  never  had  any 
cousins  before,'  interrupted  the  young  lady. 

'  Rosamond,'  said  Scremerston,  with  a  gulp,  '  is  get- 
ting on  wonderfully  well  for  a  beginner.' 

'  Then  let  us  proceed  with  her  education :  it  is 
growing  chilly,  too,'  said  the  Earl ;  and  they  all  went 
to  billiards,  the  Jesuit  marking  with  much  attention 
and  precision.  Later  he  took  a  cue,  and  was  easily 
the  master  of  every  man  there,  though  better  ac- 
quainted, he  said,  with  the  foreign  game.  The  late 
Pope  used  to  play,  he  said,  nearly  as  well  as  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer.  Even  for  a  beginner,  Miss  Wil- 
loughby was  not  a  brilliant  player ;  but  she  did  not  cut 
the  cloth,  and  her  arms  were  remarkably  beautiful  — 
an  excellent  but  an  extremely  rare  thing  in  woman. 
She  was  rewarded,  finally,  by  a  choice  between  bed- 
room candles  lit  and  offered  by  her  younger  and  her 
elder  cousins,  and,  after  a  momentary  hesitation, 
accepted  that  of  the  Earl. 

'  How  is  this  going  to  end?  '  thought  Logan,  when 
he  was  alone.  '  Miss  Bangs  is  out  of  the  running, 
that  is  certain :  millions  of  dollars  cannot  bring  her 
near  Miss  Willoughby  with  Scremerston.  The  old 
gentleman  ought  to  like  that  —  it  relieves  him  from 
the  bacon  and  lard,  and  the  dollars,  and  the  associa- 
tions with  a  Straddle;  and  then  Miss  Willoughby's 


134  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

family  is  all  right,  but  the  girl  is  reckless.  A  demon 
has  entered  into  her :  she  used  to  be  so  quiet.  I  'd 
rather  marry  Miss  Bangs  without  the  dollars.  Then 
it  is  all  very  well  for  Scremerston  to  yield  to  Venus 
Verticordia,  and  transfer  his  heart  to  this  new 
enchantress.  But,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  Earl 
himself  is  much  more  kind  than  kin.  The  heart  has 
no  age,  and  he  is  a  very  well-preserved  peer.  You 
might  take  him  for  little  more  than  forty,  though 
he  quite  looked  his  years  when  I  saw  him  first. 
Well,  /  am  safe  enough,  in  spite  of  Merton's  warn- 
ing: this  new  Helen  has  no  eyes  for  me,  and  the 
Prince  has  no  eyes  for  her,  I  think.  But  who  is  the 
Jesuit? ' 

Logan  fought  with  his  memory  till  he  fell  asleep, 
but  he  recovered  no  gleam  of  recollection  about  the 
holy  man. 

It  did  not  seem  to  Logan,  next  day,  that  he  was  in 
for  a  very  lively  holiday.  His  host  carried  ofif  Miss 
Willoughby  to  the  muniment-room  after  breakfast; 
that  was  an  advantage  he  had  over  Scremerston,  who 
was  decidedly  restless  and  ill  at  ease.  He  took 
Logan  to  see  the  keeper,  and  they  talked  about  fish 
and  examined  local  flies,  and  Logan  arranged  to  go 
and  try  the  trout  with  the  bustard  some  night ;  and 
then  they  pottered  about,  and  ate  cherries  in  the 
garden,  and  finally  the  Earl  found  them  half  asleep 
in  the  smoking-room.  He  routed  the  Jesuit  out  of 
the  library,  where  he  was  absorbed  in  a  folio  contain- 
ing the  works  of  the  sainted  Father  Parsons,  and  then 
the  Earl  showed  Logan  and  Father  Riccoboni  over 
the  house.     From  a  window  of  the   gallery  Screm- 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  135 

erston  could  be  descried  playing  croquet  with  Miss 
Willoughby,  an  apparition  radiant  in  white. 

The  house  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  queer  pas- 
sages, which,  beginning  from  the  roof  of  the  old 
tower,  above  the  Father's  chamber,  radiated  about, 
emerging  in  unexpected  places.  The  priests'  holes 
had  offered  to  the  persecuted  clergy  of  old  times  the 
choice  between  being  grilled  erect  behind  a  chimney, 
or  of  lying  flat  in  a  chamber  about  the  size  of  a  coffin 
near  the  roof,  where  the  martyr  Jesuits  lived  on 
suction,  like  the  snipe,  absorbing  soup  from  a  long 
straw  passed  through  a  wall  into  a  neighbouring 
garret. 

'  Those  were  cruel  times,'  said  Father  Riccoboni, 
who  presently,  at  luncheon,  showed  that  he  could 
thoroughly  appreciate  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
present  or  Christian  era-  Logan  watched  him,  and 
once  when,  something  that  interested  him  being  said, 
the  Father  swept  the  table  with  his  glance  without 
raising  his  head,  a  memory  for  a  fraction  of  a  moment 
seemed  to  float  towards  the  surface  of  Logan's  con- 
sciousness. Even  as  when  an  angler,  having  hooked 
a  salmon,  a  monster  of  the  stream,  long  the  fish  bores 
down  impetuous,  seeking  the  sunken  rocks,  disdainful 
of  the  steel,  and  the  dark  wave  conceals  him ;  then 
anon  is  beheld  a  gleam  of  silver,  and  again  is  lost  to 
view,  and  the  heart  of  the  man  rejoices  —  even  so 
fugitive  a  glimpse  had  Logan  of  what  he  sought  in 
the  depths  of  memory.  But  it  fled,  and  still  he  was 
puzzled. 

Logan  loafed  out  after  luncheon  to  a  seat  on  the 
lawn  in  the  shade  of  a  tree.     They  were   all  to  be 


"136  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

driven  over  to  an  Abbey  not  very  far  away,  for, 
indeed,  in  July,  there  is  little  for  a  man  to  do  in  the 
country.  Logan  sat  and  mused.  Looking  up  he 
saw  Miss  Willoughby  approaching,  twirling  an  open 
parasol  on  her  shoulder.  Her  face  was  radiant ;  of 
old  it  had  often  looked  as  if  it  might  be  stormy,  as  if 
there  were  thunder  behind  those  dark  eyebrows. 
Logan  rose,  but  the  lady  sat  down  on  the  garden 
seat,  and  he  followed  her  example. 

'This  is  better  than  Bloomsbury,  Mr.  Logan,  and 
cocodi  pojir  tout potage :  singed  cocoa  usually.' 

'  The  potage  here  is  certainly  all  that  heart  can 
wish,'  said  Logan. 

'  The  chrysalis,'  said  Miss  Willoughby,  '  in  its 
wildest  moments  never  dreamed  of  being  a  butterfly, 
as  the  man  said  in  the  sermon ;  and  I  feel  like  a 
butterfly  that  remembers  being  a  chrysalis.  Look  at 
me  now ! ' 

*  I  could  look  for  ever,'  said  Logan,  '  like  the 
sportsman  in  Keats's  Greciati  Urn : "  For  ever  let  me 
look,  and  thou  be  fair !  "  ' 

'  I  am  so  sorry  for  people  in  town,'  said  Miss  Wil- 
loughby.    '  Don't  you  wish  dear  old  Milo  was  here  ?  ' 

Milo  was  the  afl"ectionate  nickname  —  a  tribute  to 
her  charms  —  borne  by  Miss  Markham  at  St.  Ursula's. 

'  How  can  I  wish  that  anyone  was  here  but  you  ?  ' 
asked  Logan.  '  But,  indeed,  as  to  her  being  here,  I 
should  like  to  know  in  what  capacity  she  was  a 
guest.' 

The  Clytemnestra  glance  came  into  Miss  Willough- 
by's  grey  eyes  for  a  moment,  but  she  was  not  to  be 
put  out  of  humour. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   EXEMPLARY   EARL     137 

'  To  be  here  as  a  kinswoman,  and  an  historian, 
with  a  maid — fancy  me  with  a  maid! — and  every- 
thing handsome  about  me,  is  sufficiently  excellent 
for  me,  Mr.  Logan ;  and  if  it  were  otherwise,  do  you 
disapprove  of  the  proceedings  of  your  own  Society? 
But  there  is  Lord  Scremerston  calling  to  us,  and  a 
four-in-hand  waiting  at  the  door.  And  I  am  to  sit 
on  the  box-seat.  Oh,  this  is  better  than  the  dingy 
old  Record  Office  all  day.' 

With  these  words  Miss  Willoughby  tripped  over 
the  sod  as  lightly  as  the  Fairy  Queen,  and  Logan 
slowly  followed.  No  ;  he  did  not  approve  of  the  pro- 
ceedings of  his  Society  as  exemplified  by  Miss  Wil- 
loughby, and  he  was  nearly  guilty  of  falling  asleep 
during  the  drive  to  Winderby  Abbey.  Scremerston 
was  not  much  more  genial,  for  his  father  was  driving 
and  conversing  very  gaily  with  his  fair  kinswoman. 

'Talk  about  a  distant  cousin  !  '  thought  Logan,  who 
in  fact  felt  ill-treated.  However  deep  in  love  a  man 
may  be,  he  does  not  like  to  see  a  fair  lady  conspicu- 
ously much  more  interested  in  other  members  of  his 
sex  than  in  himself. 

The  Abbey  was  a  beautiful  ruin,  and  Father  Ricco- 
boni  did  not  conceal  from  Lady  Mary  the  melancholy 
emotions  with  which  it  inspired  him. 

'  When  shall  our  prayers  be  heard?  '  he  murmured. 
'  When  shall  England  return  to  her  Mother's  bosom  ?  ' 

Lady  Mary  said  nothing,  but  privately  trusted  that 
the  winds  would  disperse  the  orisons  of  which  the 
Father  spoke.  Perhaps  nuns  had  been  bricked  up  in 
these  innocent-looking  mossy  walls,  thought  Lady 
Mary,  whose  ideas  on  this  matter  were  derived  from 


138  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

a  scene  in  the  poem  of  Marmion.  And  deep  in  Lady 
Mary's  heart  was  a  half- formed  wish  that,  if  there  was 
to  be  any  bricking  up,  Miss  VVilloughby  might  be  the 
interesting  victim.  UnHke  her  brother  the  Earl,  she 
was  all  for  the  Bangs  alliance. 

Scremerston  took  the  reins  on  the  homeward  way, 
the  Earl  being  rather  fatigued ;  and,  after  dinner,  two 
white  robes  flitted  ghost-like  on  the  lawn,  and  the 
light  which  burned  red  beside  one  of  them  was  the 
cigar-tip  of  Scremerston.  The  Earl  had  fallen  asleep 
in  the  drawing-room,  and  Logan  took  a  lonely  stroll, 
much  regretting  that  he  had  come  to  a  house  where 
he  felt  decidedly  '  out  of  it.'  He  wandered  down  to 
the  river,  and  stood  watching.  He  was  beside  the 
dark-brown  water  in  the  latest  twilight,  beside  a 
long  pool  with  a  boat  moored  on  the  near  bank.  He 
sat  down  in  the  boat  pensively,  and  then  —  what  was 
that?  It  was  the  sound  of  a  heavy  trout  rising. 
'  Plop,  plop  I '     They  were  feeding  all  round  him. 

'  By  Jove !  I  '11  try  the  bustard  to-morrow  night, 
and  then  I  '11  go  back  to  town  next  day,'  thought 
Logan.  '  I  am  doing  no  good  here,  and  I  don't  like 
it.  I  shall  tell  Merton  that  I  have  moral  objections 
to  the  whole  affair.  Miserable,  mercenary  fraud  ! ' 
Thus,  feeling  very  moral  and  discontented,  Logan 
walked  back  to  the  house,  carefully  avoiding  the 
ghostly  robes  that  still  glimmered  on  the  lawn,  and 
did  not  re-enter  the  house  till  bedtime. 

The  following  day  began  as  the  last  had  done ; 
Lord  Embleton  and  Miss  Willoughby  retiring  to  the 
muniment-room,  the  lovers  vanishing  among  the 
walks.     Scremerston    again   took   Logan   to  consult 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  139 

Fenwick,  who  visibly  brightened  at  the  idea  of  night- 
fishing. 

'  You  must  take  one  of  those  long  landing-nets, 
Logan,'  said  Scremerston.  '  They  are  about  as  tall 
as  yourself,  and  as  stout  as  lance-shafts.  They  are 
for  steadying  you  when  you  wade,  and  feeling  the 
depth  of  the  water  in  front  of  you.' 

Scremerston  seemed  very  pensive.  The  day  was 
hot ;  they  wandered  to  the  smoking-room.  Screm- 
erston took  up  a  novel,  whicjj  he  did  not  read  ;  Logan 
began  a  letter  to  Merton  —  a  gloomy  epistle. 

'  I  say,  Logan,'  suddenly  said  Scremerston,  '  if  your 
letter  is  not  very  important,  I  wish  you  would  listen 
to  me  for  a  moment.' 

Logan  turned  round.  '  Fire  away,'  he  said ;  '  my 
letter  can  wait.' 

Scremerston  was  in  an  attitude  of  deep  dejection. 
Logan  lit  a  cigarette  and  waited. 

'  Logan,  I  am  the  most  miserable  beggar  alive.' 

'  What  is  the  matter  ?  You  seem  rather  in-and-out 
in  your  moods,'  said  Logan. 

'  Why,  you  know,  I  am  in  a  regular  tight  place.  I 
don't  know  how  to  put  it.  You  see,  I  can't  help 
thinking  that  —  that  —  I  have  rather  committed  my- 
self—  it  seems  a  beastly  conceited  thing  to  say  — 
that  there  's  a  girl  who  likes  me,  I  'm  afraid.' 

'  I  don't  want  to  be  inquisitive,  but  is  she  in  this 
country?'  asked  Logan. 

'  No  ;  she  's  at  Homburg.' 

'  Has  it  gone  very  far?  Have  you  said  anything? ' 
asked  Logan. 

'  No ;  my  father  did  not  like  it.  I  hoped  to  bring 
him  round.' 


I40  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Have  you  written  an\'thing  ?    Do  you  correspond  ? ' 

'  No,  but  I  'm  afraid  I  have  looked  a  lot.' 

As  the  Viscount  Scremerston's  eyes  were  by  no 
means  fitted  to  express  with  magnetic  force  the 
language  of  the  affections,  Logan  had  to  command 
his  smile. 

'  But  why  have  you  changed  your  mind,  if  you 
liked  her?  '  he  asked. 

'  Oh,  yoti  know  very  well !  Can  anybody  see  her 
and  not  love  her?'  said  Scremerston,  with  a  vague- 
ness in  his  pronouns,  but  referring  to  Miss  Willoughby. 

Logan  was  inclined  to  reply  that  he  could  furnish, 
at  first  hand,  an  exception  to  the  rule,  but  this  ap- 
peared tactless. 

*  No  one,  I  daresay,  whose  affections  were  not 
already  engaged,  could  see  her  without  loving  her; 
but  I  thought  yours  had  been  engaged  to  a  lady 
now  at  Homburg?' 

'  So  did  I,'  said  the  wretched  Scremerston,  '  but  I 
was  mistaken.  Oh,  Logan,  you  don't  know  the  dif- 
ference !  TJiis  is  genuine  biz,'  remarked  the  afiiicted 
nobleman  with  much  simplicity.  He  went  on  :  '  Then 
there  's  my  father  —  you  know  him.  He  was  against 
the  other  affair,  but,  if  he  thinks  I  have  committed 
myself  and  then  want  to  back  out,  why,  with  his 
ideas,  he  'd  rather  see  me  dead.  But  I  can't  go  on 
with  the  other  thing  now :  I  simply  can  7iot.  I  've 
a  good  mind  to  go  out  after  rabbits,  and  pot  myself 
crawling  through  a  hedge.' 

'  Oh,  nonsense  !  '  said  Logan  ;  '  that  is  stale  and 
superfluous.  For  all  that  I  can  see,  there  is  no  harm 
done.     The  young  lady,  depend  upon  it,  won't  break 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  141 

her  heart.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  don't  —  we  do. 
You  have  only  to  sit  tight.  You  are  no  more  com- 
mitted than  I  am.  You  would  only  make  both  of 
you  wretched  if  you  went  and  committed  yourself 
now,  when  you  don't  want  to  do  it.  In  your  position 
I  would  certainly  sit  tight :  don't  commit  yourself— 
either  here  or  there,  so  to  speak ;  or,  if  you  can't 
sit  tight,  make  a  bolt  for  it.  Go  to  Norway.  I  am 
very  strongly  of  opinion  that  the  second  plan  is  the 
best.  But,  anyhow,  keep  up  your  pecker.  You  are 
all  right — I  give  you  my  word  that  I  think  you  are 
all  right.' 

'Thanks,  old  cock,'  said  Scremerston.  'Sorry  to 
have  bored  you,  but  I  had  to  speak  to  somebody.' 

'  Best  thing  you  could  do,'  said  Logan.  '  You  '11 
feel  ever  so  much  better.  That  kind  of  worry  comes 
of  keeping  things  to  oneself,  till  molehills  look 
mountains.  If  you  like  I  '11  go  with  you  to  Norway 
myself.' 

'  Thanks,  awfully,'  said  Scremerston,  but  he  did 
not  seem  very  keen.     Poor  little  Scremerston  ! 

Logan  '  breasted  the  brae '  from  the  riverside  to 
the  house.  His  wading-boots  were  heavy,  for  he  had 
twice  got  in  over  the  tops  thereof;  heavy  was  his 
basket  that  Fenwick  carried  behind  him,  but  light 
was  Logan's  heart,  for  the  bustard  had  slain  its 
dozens  of  good  trout.  He  and  the  keeper  emerged 
from  the  wood  on  the  level  of  the  lawn.  All  the 
great  mass  of  the  house  lay  dark  before  them.  Logan 
was  to  let  himself  in  by  the  locked  French  window ; 
for  it  was  very  late  — :  about   two    in    the    morning. 


142  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

He  had  the  key  of  the  window-door  in  his  pocket. 
A  Hght  moved  through  the  long  gallery :  he  saw  it 
pass  each  window  and  vanish.  There  was  dead 
silence :  not  a  leaf  stirred.  Then  there  rang  out  a 
pistol-shot,  or  was  it  two  pistol-shots?  Logan  ran 
for  the  window,  his  rod,  which  he  had  taken  down 
after  fishing,  in  his  hand. 

'  Hurry  to  the  back  door,  Fenwick  !  '  he  said;  and 
Fenwick,  throwing  down  the  creel,  but  grasping  the 
long  landing-net,  flew  to  the  back  way.  Logan 
opened  the  drawing-room  window,  took  out  his  match- 
box, with  trembling  fingers  lit  a  candle,  and,  with  the 
candle  in  one  hand,  the  rod  in  the  other,  sped  through 
the  hall,  and  along  a  back  passage  leading  to  the 
gunroom.  He  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Earl  run- 
ning down  the  main  staircase,  and  had  guessed  that 
the  trouble  was  on  the  ground  floor.  As  he  reached 
the  end  of  the  long  dark  passage,  Fenwick  leaped  in 
by  the  back  entrance,  of  which  the  door  was  open. 
What  Logan  saw  was  a  writhing  group  —  the  Prince 
of  Scalastro  struggling  in  the  arms  of  three  men: 
a  long  white  heap  lay  crumpled  in  a  corner.  Fen- 
wick, at  this  moment,  threw  the  landing-net  over  the 
head  of  one  of  the  Prince's  assailants,  and  with  a  twist, 
held  the  man  half  choked  and  powerless.  Fenwick 
went  on  twisting,  and,  with  the  leverage  of  the  long 
shaft  of  the  net,  dragged  the  wretch  off"  the  Prince, 
and  threw  him  down.  Another  of  the  men  turned  on 
Logan  with  a  loud  guttural  oath,  and  was  raising  a 
pistol.  Logan  knew  the  voice  at  last  —  knew  the 
Jesuit  now.  ' Rien  ne  va phis!''  he  cried,  and  lunged, 
with  all  the  force  and  speed  of  an  expert  fencer,  at 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    EXEMPLARY   EARL     143 

the  fellow's  face  with  the  point  of  the  rod.  The 
metal  joints  clicked  and  crashed  through  the  man's 
mouth,  his  pistol  dropped,  and  he  staggered,  cursing 
through  his  blood,  against  the  wall.  Logan  picked 
up  the  revolver  as  the  Prince,  whose  hands  were  now 
free,  floored  the  third  of  his  assailants  with  an  upper 
cut.  Logan  thrust  the  revolver  into  the  Prince's 
hand.  'Keep  them  quiet  with  that,'  he  said,  and  ran 
to  where  the  Earl,  who  had  entered  unseen  in  the 
struggle,  was  kneeling  above  the  long,  white,  crumpled 
heap. 

It  was  Scremerston,  dead,  in  his  night  dress :  poor 
plucky  little  Scremerston. 

Afterwards,  before  the  trial,  the  Prince  told  Logan 
how  matters  had  befallen.  '  I  was  wakened,'  he 
said  —  *  you  were  very  late,  you  know,  and  we  had  all 
gone  to  bed  —  I  was  wakened  by  a  banging  door.  If 
you  remember,  I  told  you  all,  on  the  night  of  your 
arrival  at  Rookchester,  how  I  hated  that  sound.  I 
tried  not  to  think  of  it,  and  was  falling  asleep  when 
it  banged  again  —  a  double  knock.  I  was  nearly 
asleep,  when  it  clashed  again.  There  was  no  wind, 
my  window  was  open  and  I  looked  out :  I  only  heard 
the  river  murmuring  and  the  whistle  of  a  passing 
train.  The  stillness  made  the  abominable  recurrent 
noise  more  extraordinary.  I  dressed  in  a  moment  in 
my  smoking-clothes,  lit  a  candle,  and  went  out  of  my 
room,  listening.     I  walked  along  the  gallery — ' 

'  It  was  your  candle  that  I  saw  as  I  crossed  the 
lawn,'  said  Logan, 

'When  a  door  opened,'  the  Prince  went  on  —  'the 


144  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

door  of  one  of  the  rooms  on  the  landing  —  and  a 
figure,  all  in  white,  —  it  was  Scremerston,  —  emerged 
and  disappeared  down  the  stairs.  I  followed  at  the 
top  of  my  speed.  I  heard  a  shot,  or  rather  two  pistols 
that  rang  out  together  like  one.  I  ran  through  the 
hall  into  the  long  back  passage  at  right-angles  to  it, 
down  the  passage  to  the  glimmer  of  light  through 
the  partly  glazed  door  at  the  end  of  it.  Then  my 
candle  was  blown  out  and  three  men  set  on  me. 
They  had  nearly  pinioned  me  when  you  and  Fenwick 
took  them  on  both  flanks.  You  know  the  rest.  They 
had  the  boat  unmoored,  a  light  cart  ready  on  the 
other  side,  and  a  steam-yacht  lying  off  Warkworth. 
The  object,  of  course,  was  to  kidnap  me,  and  coerce 
or  torture  me  into  renewing  the  lease  of  the  tables  at 
Scalastro.  Poor  Scremerston,  who  was  a  few  seconds 
ahead  of  me,  not  carrying  a  candle,  had  fired  in  the 
dark,  and  missed.  The  answering  fire,  which  was 
simultaneous,  killed  him.  The  shots  saved  me,  for 
they  brought  you  and  Fenwick  to  the  rescue.  Two 
of  the  fellows  whom  we  damaged  were ' 

'The  Genoese  pipers,  of  course,'  said  Logan. 

'  And  you  guessed,  from  the  cry  you  gave,  who 
my  confessor  {he  banged  the  door,  of  course  to  draw 
me)  turned  out  to  be?  ' 

*  Yes,  the  head  croupier  at  Scalastro  years  ago ; 
but  he  wore  a  beard  and  blue  spectacles  in  the  old 
time,  when  he  raked  in  a  good  deal  of  my  patrimony,' 
said  Logan.     '  But  how  was  he  planted  on  you?' 

'  My  old  friend,  Father  Costa,  had  died,  and  it  is 
too  long  a  tale  of  forgery  and  fraud  to  tell  you  how 
this  wretch  was  forced  on  me.     He  /tad  been  a  Jesuit, 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  EXEMPLARY  EARL  145 

but  was  unfrocked  and  expelled  from  Society  for  all 
sorts  of  namable  and  unnamable  offences.  His  com- 
munity believed  that  he  was  dead.  So  he  fell  to  the 
profession  in  which  you  saw  him,  and,  when  the 
gambling  company  saw  that  I  was  disinclined  to  let 
that  hell  burn  any  longer  on  my  rock,  ingenious 
treachery  did  the  rest.' 
'  By  Jove  !  '  said  Logan. 

The  Prince  of  Scalastro,  impoverished  by  his  own 
generous  impulse,  now  holds  high  rank  in  the  Japan- 
ese service.  His  beautiful  wife  is  much  admired  in 
Yokohama. 

The  Earl  was  nursed  through  the  long  and  danger- 
ous illness  which  followed  the  shock  of  that  dreadful 
July  night,  by  the  unwearying  assiduity  of  his  kins- 
woman, Miss  Willoughby.  On  his  recovery,  the  bride 
(for  the  Earl  won  her  heart  and  hand)  who  stood  by 
him  at  the  altar  looked  fainter  and  more  ghostly  than 
the  bridegroom.  But  her  dark  hour  of  levity  was 
passed  and  over.  There  is  no  more  affectionate  pair 
than  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Embleton.  Lady  Mary, 
who  lives  with  them,  is  once  more  an  aunt,  and  spoils, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  the  young  Viscount  Scremerston, 
a  fine  but  mischievous  little  boy.  On  the  fate  of  the 
ex-Jesuit  we  do  not  dwell :  enough  to  say  that  his 
punishment  was  decreed  by  the  laws  of  our  country, 
not  of  that  which  he  had  disgraced. 

The  manuscripts  of  the  Earl  have  been  edited  by 
him  and  the  Countess  for  the  Roxburghe  Club. 


VIII 

THE   ADVENTURE   OF   THE   LADY    PATRONESS 

*  T  CANNOT  bring  myself  to  refuse  my  assent.  It 
jL  would  break  the  dear  child's  heart.  She  has 
never  cared  for  anyone  else,  and,  oh,  she  is  quite 
wrapped  up  in  him.  I  have  heard  of  your  wonder- 
ful cures,  Mr.  Merton,  I  mean  successes,  in  cases 
which  everyone  has  given  up,  and  though  it  seems 
a  very  strange  step  to  me,  I  thought  that  I  ought  to 
shrink  from  no  remedy ' 

'  However  unconventional,'  said  Merton,  smiling. 
He  felt  rather  as  if  he  were  being  treated  like  a 
quack  doctor,  to  whom  people  (if  foolish  enough) 
appeal  only  as  the  last  desperate  resource. 

The  lady  who  filled,  and  amply  filled,  the  client's 
chair,  Mrs.  Malory,  of  Upwold  in  Yorkshire,  was  a 
widow,  obviously,  a  widow  indeed.  '  In  weed  '  was 
an  unworthy  calembour  which  flashed  through  Mer- 
ton's  mind,  since  Mrs.  Malory's  undying  regret  for 
her  lord  (a  most  estimable  man  for  a  coal  owner)  was 
explicitly  declared,  or  rather  was  blazoned  abroad,  in 
her  costume.  Mrs.  Mallory,  in  fact,  was  what  is  deri- 
sively styled  '  Early  Victorian  '  — '  Middle  '  would  have 
been,  historically,  more  accurate.  Her  religion  was 
mildly  Evangelical ;  she  had  been  brought  up  on  the 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    LADY    PATRONESS     147 

Memoirs  of  the  Fairchild  Family,  by  Mrs.  Sherwood, 
tempered  by  Miss  Yonge  and  the  Waverley  Novels. 
On  these  principles  she  had  trained  her  family.  The 
result  was  that  her  sons  had  not  yet  brought  the 
family  library,  and  the  family  Romneys  and  Hoppners, 
to  Christie's.  Not  one  of  them  was  a  director  of  any 
company,  and  the  name  of  Malory  had  not  yet  been 
distinguished  by  decorating  the  annals  of  the  Courts 
of  Bankruptcy  or  of  Divorce.  In  short,  a  family  more 
deplorably  not  '  up  to  date,'  and  more  '  out  of  the 
swim  '  could  scarcely  be  found  in  England. 

Such,  and  of  such  connections,  was  the  lady,  fair, 
faded,  with  mildly  aquiline  features,  and  an  aspect  at 
once  distinguished  and  dowdy,  who  appealed  to 
Merton.  She  sought  him  in  what  she,  at  least,  re- 
garded as  the  interests  of  her  eldest  daughter,  an 
heiress  under  the  will  of  a  maternal  uncle.  Merton 
had  met  the  young  lady,  who  looked  like  a  portrait 
of  her  mother  in  youth.  He  knew  that  Miss  Malory, 
now  '  wrapped  up  in'  her  betrothed  lover,  would,  in 
a  few  years,  be  equally  absorbed  in  '  her  boys.'  She 
was  pretty,  blonde,  dull,  good,  and  cast  by  Providence 
for  the  part  of  one  of  the  best  of  mothers,  and  the 
despair  of  what  man  soever  happened  to  sit  next  her 
at  a  dinner  party.  Such  women  are  the  safeguards 
of  society  —  though  sneered  at  by  the  frivolous  as 
'  British  Matrons.' 

'  I  have  laid  the  case  before  the  —  where  I  always 
take  my  troubles,'  said  Mrs.  Malory,  '  and  I  have  not 
felt  restrained  from  coming  to  consult  you.  When  I 
permitted  my  daughter's  engagement  (of  course  after 
carefully  examining  the  young  man's  worldly    posi- 


148  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

tion)  I  was  not  aware  of  what  I  know  now.  Matilda 
met  him  at  a  visit  to  some  neighbours  —  he  really  is 
very  attractive,  and  very  attentive  —  and  it  was  not 
till  we  came  to  London  for  the  season  that  I  heard 
the  stories  about  him.  Some  of  them  have  been 
pointed  out  to  me,  in  print,  in  the  dreadful  French 
newspapers,  others  came  to  me  in  anonymous  letters. 
As  far  as  a  mother  may,  I  tried  to  warn  Matilda,  but 
there  are  subjects  on  which  one  can  hardly  speak  to 
a  girl.  The  Vidame,  in  fact,'  said  Mrs.  Malory,  blush- 
ing, '  is  celebrated  —  I  should  say  infamous  —  both 
in  France  and  Italy,  Poland  too,  as  what  they  call  un 
homme  aux  bonnes  fortunes.  He  has  caused  the  break- 
up of  several  families.  Mr.  Merton,  he  is  a  rake,' 
whispered  the  lady,  in  some  confusion, 

'  He  is  still  young;  he  may  reform,'  said  Merton, 
'  and  no  doubt  a  pure  affection  will  be  the  saving  of 
him.' 

'  So  Matilda  believes,  but,  though  a  Protestant  — 
his  ancestors  having  left  France  after  the  Revocation 
of  the  Edict  of  Nancy  —  Nantes  I  mean  —  I  am  cer- 
tain that  he  is  7iot  under  conviction.' 

'  Why  does  he  call  himself  Vidame,  "  the  Vidame 
de  la  Lain"?'  asked  Merton. 

'It  is  an  affectation,'  said  Mrs.  Malory.  'None  of 
his  family  used  the  title  in  England,  but  he  has  been 
much  on  the  Continent,  and  has  lands  in  France;  and, 
I  suppose,  has  romantic  ideas.  He  is  as  much  French 
as  English,  more  I  am  afraid.  The  wickedness  of 
that  country !  And  I  fear  it  has  affected  ours.  Even 
now —  I  am  not  a  scandal-monger,  and  I  hope  for  the 
best —  but  even  last  winter  he  was  talked  about,'  Mrs. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    LADY    PATRONESS     149 

Malory  dropped  her  voice,  '  with  a  lady  whose  hus- 
band is  in  America,  Mrs.  Brown-Smith.' 

'A  lady  for  whom  I  have  the  very  highest  esteem,' 
said  Merton,  for,  indeed,  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  was  one 
of  his  references  or  Lady  Patronesses ;  he  knew  her 
well,  and  had  a  respect  for  her  character,  au  fond,  as 
well  as  an  admiration  for  her  charms. 

'  You  console  me  indeed,'  said  Mrs.  Malory.  '  I 
had  heard ' 

*  People  talk  a  great  deal  of  ill-natured  nonsense,' 
said  Merton  warmly.  'Do  you  know  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith?' 

'  We  have  met,  but  we  are  not  in  the  same  set ;  we 
have  exchanged  visits,  but  that  is  all.' 

'  Ah  I  '  said  Merton  thoughtfully.  He  remembered 
that  when  his  enterprise  was  founded  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith  had  kindly  offered  her  practical  services,  and 
that  he  had  declined  them  for  the  moment.  '  Mrs. 
Malory,'  he  went  on,  after  thinking  awhile,  '  may  I 
take  your  case  into  my  consideration  —  the  marriage 
is  not  till  October,  you  say,  we  are  in  June  — and  I 
may  ask  for  a  later  interview?  Of  course  you  shall 
be  made  fully  aware  of  every  detail,  and  nothing 
shall  be  done  without  your  approval.  In  fact  all  will 
depend  on  your  own  co-operation.  I  don't  deny  that 
there  may  be  distasteful  things,  but  if  you  are  quite 
sure  about  this  gentleman's ' 

'  Character? '  said  Mrs.  Malory.  '  I  am  so  sure  that 
it  has  cost  me  many  a  wakeful  hour.  You  will  earn 
my  warmest  gratitude  if  you  can  do  anything.' 

'  Almost  everything  will  depend  on  your  own 
energy,  and  tolerance  of  our  measures,' 


ISO  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  But  we  must  not  do  evil  that  good  may  come,' 
said  Mrs.  Malory  nervously. 

'  No  evil  is  contemplated,'  said  Merton.  But  Mrs. 
Malory,  while  consenting,  so  far,  did  not  seem  quite 
certain  that  her  estimate  of  '  evil '  and  Merton's  would 
be  identical. 

She  had  suffered  poignantly,  as  may  be  supposed, 
before  she  set  the  training  of  a  lifetime  aside,  and 
consulted  a  professional  expert.  But  the  urbanity 
and  patience  of  Merton,  with  the  high  and  unblem- 
ished reputation  of  his  Association,  consoled  her. 
'  We  must  yield  where  we  innocently  may,'  she  as- 
sured herself,  '  to  the  changes  of  the  times.  Lest 
one  good  order '  (and  ah,  how  good  the  Early  Vic- 
torian order  had  been!)  'should  corrupt  the  world.' 
Mrs.  Malory  knew  that  line  of  poetry.  Then  she 
remembered  that  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  was  on  the  list 
of  Merton's  references,  and  that  reassured  her,  more 
or  less. 

As  for  Merton,  he  evolved  a  plan  in  his  mind,  and 
consulted  Bradshaw's  invaluable  Railway  Guide. 

On  the  following  night  Merton  was  fortunate  or 
adroit  enough  to  find  himself  seated  beside  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith  in  a  conservatory  at  a  party  given  by 
the  Montenegrin  Ambassador.  Other  occupants  of 
the  fairy-like  bower  of  blossoms,  musical  with  all  the 
singing  of  the  innumerable  fountains,  could  not  but 
know  (however  preoccupied)  that  Mrs.  Brown-Smith 
was  being  amused.  Her  laughter  '  rang  merry  and 
loud,'  as  the  poet  says,  though  not  a  word  of  her 
whispered  conversation  was  audible.  Conservatories 
(in  novels)  are  dangerous  places  for  confidences,  but 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  LADY  PATRONESS  151 

the  pale  and  angry  face  of  Miss  Malory  did  not  sud- 
denly emerge  from  behind  a  grove  of  gardenias,  and 
startle  the  conspirators.  Indeed,  Miss  Malory  was 
not  present ;  she  and  her  sister  had  no  great  share 
in  the  elegant  frivolities  of  the  metropolis. 

'  It  all  fits  in  beautifully,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith. 
'  Just  let  me  look  at  the  page  of  Bradshaw  again.' 
Merton  handed  to  her  a  page  of  closely  printed 
matter.  '9.17  P.M.,  9.50  P.M.'  read  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith  aloud ;  '  it  gives  plenty  of  time  in  case  of 
delays.  Oh,  this  is  too  delicious !  You  are  sure 
that  these  trains  won't  be  altered.  It  might  be 
awkward.' 

'  I  consulted  Anson,'  said  Merton.  Anson  was 
famous  for  his  mastery  of  time-tables,  and  his  pre- 
science as  to  railway  arrangements. 

'  Of  course  it  depends  on  the  widow,'  said  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith,  '  I  shall  see  that  Johnnie  is  up  to  time. 
He  hopes  to  undersell  the  opposition  soap '  (Mr. 
Brown-Smith  was  absent  in  America,  in  the  interests 
of  that  soap  of  his  which  is  familiar  to  all),  '  and  he 
is  in  the  best  of  humours.  Then  their  grouse  !  We 
have  disease  on  our  moors  in  Perthshire ;  I  was  in 
despair.     But  the  widow  needs  delicate  handling.' 

'  You  won't  forget  —  I  know  how  busy  you  are  — 
her  cards  for  your  party?' 

'  They  shall  be  posted  before  I  sleep  the  sleep  of 
conscious  innocence.' 

'  And  real  benevolence,'  said  Merton. 

'  And  revenge,'  added  Mrs  Brown-Smith.  '  I  have 
heard  of  his  bragging,  the  monster.  He  has  talked 
about  me.  And  I  remember  how  he  treated  Violet 
Lcbas.' 


152  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

At  this  moment  the  Vidame  de  la  Lain,  a  tall,  fair 
young  man,  vastly  too  elegant,  appeared,  and  claimed 
Mrs.  Brown-Smith  for  a  dance.  With  a  look  at  Mer- 
ton,  and  a  sound  which,  from  less  perfect  lips,  might 
have  been  described  as  a  suppressed  giggle,  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith  rose,  then  turning,  *  Post  the  page  to 
me,  Mr.  Merton/  she  said.  Merton  bowed,  and,  fold- 
ing up  the  page  of  the  time-table,  he  consigned  it  to 
his  cigarette  case. 

Mrs.  Malory  received,  with  a  blending  of  emotions, 
the  invitation  to  the  party  of  Mrs.  Brown-Smith.  The 
social  popularity  and  the  wealth  of  the  hostess  made 
such  invitations  acceptable.  But  the  wealth  arose 
from  trade,  in  soap,  not  in  coal,  and  coal  (like  the 
colza  bean)  is  '  a  product  of  the  soil,'  the  result  of 
creative  forces  which,  in  the  geological  past,  have 
worked  together  for  the  good  of  landed  families. 
Soap,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  result  of  human 
artifice,  and  is  certainly  advertised  with  more  of 
emphasis  and  of  ingenuity  than  of  delicacy.  But, 
by  her  own  Hne  of  descent,  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  came 
from  a  Scottish  house  of  ancient  standing,  historically 
renowned  for  its  assassins,  traitors,  and  time-servers. 
This  partly  washed  out  the  stain  of  soap.  Again, 
Mrs.  Malory  had  heard  the  name  of  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith  taken  in  vain,  and  that  in  a  matter  nearly 
affecting  her  Matilda's  happiness.  On  the  other 
side,  Merton  had  given  the  lady  a  valuable  testi- 
monial to  character.  Moreover,  the  Vidame  would 
be  at  her  party,  and  Mrs.  Malory  told  herself  that 
she  could  study  the  ground.     Above  all,  the  girls 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  LADY  PATRONESS  153 

were  so  anxious  to  go :  they  seldom  had  such  a 
chance.  Therefore,  while  the  Early  Victorian  moral- 
ist hesitated,  the  mother  accepted. 

They  were  all  glad  that  they  went.  Susan,  the 
younger  Miss  Malory,  enjoyed  herself  extremely. 
Matilda  danced  with  the  Vidame  as  often  as  her 
mother  approved.  The  conduct  of  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith  was  correctness  itself.  She  endeared  herself 
to  the  girls :  invited  them  to  her  place  in  Perthshire, 
and  warmly  congratulated  Mrs.  Malory  on  the  event 
approaching  in  her  family.  The  eye  of  maternal  sus- 
picion could  detect  nothing  amiss.  Thanks  mainly 
to  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  the  girls  found  the  season  an 
earthly  Paradise :  and  Mrs.  Malory  saw  much  more 
of  the  world  than  she  had  ever  done  before.  But 
she  remained  vigilant,  and  on  the  alert.  Before  the 
end  of  July  she  had  even  conceived  the  idea  of  in- 
viting Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  fatigued  by  her  toils,  to 
inhale  the  bracing  air  of  Upwold  in  the  moors.  But 
she  first  consulted  Merton,  who  expressed  his  warm 
approval. 

'  It  is  dangerous,  though  she  has  been  so  kind,' 
sighed  Mrs.  Malory.  '  I  have  observed  nothing  to 
justify  the  talk  which  I  have  heard,  but  I  am  in 
doubt' 

'  Dangerous  !  it  is  safety,'  said  Merton. 

'How?' 

Merton  braced  himself  for  the  most  delicate  and 
perilous  part  of  his  enterprise. 

'  The  Vidame  de  la  Lain  will  be  staying  with  you  ?  ' 

'  Naturally,'  said  Mrs.  Malory.  '  And  if  there  is 
any  truth  in  what  was  whispered ' 


154  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'He  will  be  subject  to  temptation,'  said  Merton. 

'  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  is  so  pretty  and  so  amusing, 
and  dear  Matilda;  she  takes  after  my  dear  husband's 
family,  though  the  best  of  girls,  Matilda  has  not 
that  flashing  manner.' 

'  But  surely  no  such  thing  as  temptation  should 
exist  for  a  man  so  fortunate  as  de  la  Lain !  And  if 
it  did,  would  his  conduct  not  confirm  what  you  have 
heard,  and  open  the  eyes  of  Miss  Malory?' 

'  It  seems  so  odd  to  be  discussing  such  things  with 
so  young  a  man  as  you  —  not  even  a  relation,'  sighed 
Mrs.  Malory. 

'  I  can  withdraw  at  once,'  said  Merton. 

'  Oh  no,  please  don't  speak  of  that !  I  am  not 
really  at  all  happy  yet  about  my  daughter's  future.' 

'  Well,  suppose  the  worst  by  way  of  argument ; 
suppose  that  you  saw,  that  Miss   Malory  saw ' 

'  Matilda  has  always  refused  to  see  or  to  listen,  and 
has  spoken  of  the  reforming  effects  of  a  pure  affec- 
tion. She  would  be  hard,  indeed,  to  convince  that 
anything  was  wrong,  but,  once  certain  —  I  know  Ma- 
tilda's character  —  she  would  never  forgive  the  insult, 
never.' 

'And  you  would  rather  that  she  suffered  some 
present  distress?  ' 

'  Than  that  she  was  tied  for  life  to  a  man  who  could 
cause  it?     Certainly  I  would.' 

'  Then,  Mrs.  Malory,  as  it  is  awkward  to  discuss 
these  intimate  matters  with  me,  might  I  suggest  that 
you  should  have  an  interview  with  Mrs.  Brown-Smith 
herself  ?  I  assure  you  that  you  can  trust  her,  and 
I  happen  to  know  that  her  view  of  the  man  about 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   LADY    PATRONESS     155 

whom  we  are  talking  is  exactly  your  own.  More 
I  could  say  as  to  her  reasons  and  motives,  but  we 
entirely  decline  to  touch  on  the  past  or  to  offer  any 
opinion  about  the  characters  of  our  patients  —  the 
persons  about  whose  engagements  we  are  consulted. 
He  might  have  murdered  his  grandmother  or  robbed 
a  church,  but  my  lips  would  be  sealed.' 

'  Do  you  not  think  that  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  would  be 
very  much  surprised  if  I  consulted  her?  ' 

'  I  know  that  she  takes  a  sincere  interest  in  Miss 
Malory,  and  that  her  advice  would  be  excellent  — 
though  perhaps  rather  startHng,'  said  Merton. 

'  I  dislike  it  very  much.  The  world  has  altered 
terribly  since  I  was  Matilda's  age,'  said  Mrs.  Malory ; 
'  but  I  should  never  forgive  myself  if  I  neglected  any 
precaution,  and  I  shall  take  your  advice.  I  shall 
consult  Mrs.  Brown-Smith.' 

Merton  thus  retreated  from  what  even  he  regarded 
as  a  difficult  and  delicate  affair.  He  fell  back  on  his 
reserves;  and  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  later  gave  an  ac- 
count of  what  passed  between  herself  and  the 
representative  of  an  earlier  age : 

'  She  first,  when  she  had  invited  me  to  her  dreary 
place,  explained  that  we  ought  not,  she  feared,  to 
lead  others  into  temptation.  "  If  you  think  that 
man,  de  la  Lain's  temptation  is  to  drag  my  father's 
name,  and  my  husband's,  in  the  dust,"  I  answered, 
"  let  me  tell  you  that  /have  a  temptation  also." 

'  "  Dear  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,"  she  answered,  "  this  is 
indeed  honourable  candour.  Not  for  the  world  would 
I  be  the  occasion " 

'  I   interrupted   her,   "  Mj'  temptation   is  to  make 


156  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

him  the  laughing  stock  of  his  acquaintance,  and, 
if  he  has  the  impudence  to  give  me  the  opportunity, 
I  will ! "  And  then  I  told  her,  without  names,  of 
course,  that  story  about  this  Vidame  Potter  and 
Violet  Lebas.' 

'  I  did  no^,'  said  Merton.  *  But  why  Vidame 
Potter?' 

'His  father  was  a  Mr.  Potter;  his  grandfather 
married  a  Miss  Lalain  —  I  know  all  about  it  —  and 
this  creature  has  wormed  out,  or  invented,  some 
story  of  a  Vidameship,  or  whatever  it  is,  hereditary 
in  the  female  line,  and  has  taken  the  title.  And  this 
is  the  man  who  has  had  the  impertinence  to  talk  about 
me,  a  Ker  of  Graden.' 

'  But  did  not  the  story  you  speak  of  make 
her  see  that  she  must  break  off  her  daughter's 
engagement? ' 

'  No.  She  was  very  much  distressed,  but  said  that 
her  daughter  Matilda  would  never  believe  it.' 

'  And  so  you  are  to  go  to  Upwold  ? ' 

'  Yes,  it  is  a  mournful  place ;  I  never  did  anything 
so  good-natured.  And,  with  the  widow's  knowledge, 
I  am  to  do  as  I  please  till  the  girl's  eyes  are  opened. 
I  think  it  will  need  that  stratagem  we  spoke  of  to 
open  them.' 

'  You  are  sure  that  you  will  be  in  no  danger  from 
evil  tongues?' 

'They  say,  What  say  they?  Let  them  say,'  an- 
swered Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  quoting  the  motto  of  the 
Keiths. 

The  end  of  July  found  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  at 
Upwold,  where  it  is  to  be  hoped   that  the  bracing 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  LADY  PATRONESS  157 

qualities  of  the  atmosphere  made  up  for  the  want 
of  congenial  society.  Susan  Malory  had  been  dis- 
creetly sent  away  on  a  visit.  None  of  the  men  of  the 
family  had  arrived.  There  was  a  party  of  local  neigh- 
bours, who  did  not  feel  the  want  of  anything  to  do, 
but  lived  in  dread  of  flushing  the  Vidame  and  Matilda 
out  of  a  window  seat  whenever  they  entered  a  room. 

As  for  the  Vidame,  being  destitute  of  all  other 
entertainment,  he  made  love  in  a  devoted  manner. 

But  at  dinner,  after  Mrs.  Brown-Smith's  arrival, 
though  he  sat  next  Matilda,  Mrs.  Malory  saw  that  his 
eyes  were  mainly  bent  on  the  lady  opposite.  The  ping- 
pong  of  conversation,  even,  was  played  between  him 
and  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  across  the  table :  the  county 
neighbours  were  quite  lost  in  their  endeavours  to  fol- 
low the  flight  of  the  ball.  Though  the  drawing-room 
window,  after  dinner,  was  open  on  the  fragrant  lawn, 
though  Matilda  sat  close  by  it,  in  her  wonted  place, 
the  Vidame  was  hanging  over  the  chair  of  the  visitor, 
and  later,  played  billiards  with  her,  a  game  at  which 
Matilda  did  not  excel.  At  family  prayers  next  morn- 
ing (the  service  was  conducted  by  Mrs.  Malory)  the 
Vidame  appeared  with  a  white  rosebud  in  his  button- 
hole, Mrs.  Brown-Smith  wearing  its  twin  sister.  He 
took  her  to  the  stream  in  the  park  where  she  fished, 
Matilda  following  in  a  drooping  manner.  The  Vi- 
dame was  much  occupied  in  extracting  the  flies  from 
the  hair  of  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  in  which  they  were 
frequently  entangled.  After  luncheon  he  drove  with 
the  two  ladies  and  Mrs.  Malory  to  the  country  town, 
the  usual  resource  of  ladies  in  the  country,  and 
though  he  sat  next  Matilda,  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  was 


158  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

beaming  opposite,  and  the  pair  did  most  of  the  talk- 
ing. While  Mrs.  Malory  and  her  daughter  shopped, 
it  was  the  Vidame  who  took  Mrs.  Brown- Smith  to 
inspect  the  ruins  of  the  Abbey.  The  county  neigh- 
bours had  left  in  the  morning,  a  new  set  arrived,  and 
while  Matilda  had  to  entertain  them,  it  was  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith  whom  the  Vidame  entertained. 

This  kind  of  thing  went  on ;  when  Matilda  was 
visiting  her  cottagers  it  was  the  Vidame  and  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith  whom  visitors  flushed  in  window  seats. 
They  wondered  that  Mrs.  Malory  had  asked  so  dan- 
gerous a  woman  to  the  house :  they  marvelled  that 
she  seemed  quite  radiant  and  devoted  to  her  lively 
visitor.  There  was  a  school  feast :  it  was  the  Vidame 
who  arranged  hurdle-races  for  children  of  both  sexes 
(so  improper!  ),  and  who  started  the  competitors. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Malory,  so  unusually  genial  in  pub- 
lic, held  frequent  conventicles  with  Matilda  in  private. 
But  Matilda  declined  to  be  jealous ;  they  were  only 
old  friends,  she  said,  these  flagitious  two  ;  Dear  Anne 
(that  was  the  Vidame's  Christian  name)  was  all  that 
she  could  wish. 

'  You  know  the  place  is  so  dull,  mother,'  the  brave 
girl  said.  '  Even  grandmamma,  who  was  a  saint,  says 
so  in  her  Domestic  Outpourmgs '  (religious  memoirs 
privately  printed  in  1838).  'We  cannot  amuse  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith,  and  it  is  so  kind  and  chivalrous  of 
Anne.' 

'  To  neglect  you  ? ' 

'  No,  to  do  duty  for  Tom  and  Dick,'  who  were  her 
brothers,  and  who  would  not  greatly  have  entertained 
the  fair  visitor  had  they  been  present. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY    PATRONESS     159 

Matilda  was  the  kind  of  woman  whom  we  all  adore 
as  represented  in  the  characters  of  Fielding's  Amelia 
and  Sophia.  Such  she  was,  so  gracious  and  yielding, 
in  her  overt  demeanour,  but,  alas,  poor  Matilda's 
pillowr  was  often  wet  with  her  tears.  She  was  loyal; 
she  would  not  believe  evil :  she  crushed  her  natural 
jealousy  '  as  a  vice  of  blood,  upon  the  threshold  of 
the  mind.' 

Mrs.  Brown-Smith  was  nearly  as  unhappy  as  the 
girl.  The  more  she  hated  the  Vidame  —  and  she 
detested  him  more  deeply  every  day  —  the  more  her 
heart  bled  for  Matilda.  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  also  had 
her  secret  conferences  with  Mrs.  Malory. 

'Nothing  will  shake  her  belief  in  that  man,'  said 
Mrs.  Malory. 

'  Your  daughter  is  the  best  girl  I  ever  met,'  said 
Mrs.  Brown-Smith.  '  The  best  tempered,  the  least 
suspicious,  the  most  loyal.  And  I  am  doing  my 
worst  to  make  her  hate  me.  Oh,  I  can't  go  on !  ' 
Here  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  very  greatly  surprised  her 
hostess  by  bursting  into  tears. 

'You  must  not  desert  us  now,'  said  the  elder  lady. 
'The  better  you  think  of  poor  Matilda  —  and  she 
is  a  good  girl  —  the  more  you  ought  to  help 
her.' 

It  was  the  8th  of  August,  no  other  visitors  were  at 
the  house,  a  shooting  party  was  expected  to  arrive  on 
the  nth.  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  dried  her  tears.  'It 
must  be  done,'  she  said,  '  though  it  makes  me  sick  to 
think  of  it.' 

Next  day  she  met  the  Vidame  in  the  park,  and 
afterwards  held  a  long  conversation  with  Mrs.  Malory. 


i6o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

As  for  the  Vidame,  he  was  in  feverish  high  spirits,  he 
devoted  himself  to  Matilda,  in  fact  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith  had  insisted  on  such  dissimulation,  as  abso- 
lutely necessary  at  this  juncture  of  affairs.  So 
Matilda  bloomed  again,  like  a  rose  that  had  been 
'  washed,  just  washed,  in  a  shower.'  The  Vidame 
went  about  humming  the  airs  of  the  country  which  he 
had  honoured  by  adopting  it  as  the  cradle  of  his 
ancestry. 

On  the  morning  of  the  following  day,  while  the 
Vidame  strayed  with  Matilda  in  the  park,  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith  was  closeted  with  Mrs.  Malory  in  her 
boudoir. 

'  Everything  is  arranged,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith. 
*  I,  guilty  and  reckless  that  I  am,  have  only  to  sacri- 
fice my  character,  and  all  my  things.  But  I  am  to 
retain  Methven,  my  maid.  That  concession  I  have 
won  from  his  chivalry.' 

*  How  do  you  mean?  '  asked  Mrs.  Malory. 

'  At  seven  he  will  get  a  telegram  summoning  him 
to  Paris  on  urgent  business.  He  will  leave  in  your 
station  brougham  in  time  to  catch  the  9.50  up  train 
at  Wilkington.  Or,  rather,  so  impatient  is  he,  he  will 
leave  half  an  hour  too  early,  for  fear  of  accidental 
delays.  I  and  my  maid  will  accompany  him.  I  have 
thought  honesty  the  best  policy,  and  told  the  truth, 
like  Bismarck, "  and  the  same," '  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith 
hysterically,  *  "  with  intent  to  deceive."  I  have  pointed 
out  to  him  that  my  best  plan  is  to  pretend  to  you  that 
I  am  going  to  meet  my  husband,  who  really  arrives 
at  Wilkington  from  Liverpool  by  the  9.17,  though  the 
Vidame  thinks  that  is  an  invention  of  mine.     So,  you 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY    PATRONESS     i6i 

see,  I  leave  without  any  secrecy,  or  fuss,  or  luggage, 
and,  when  my  husband  comes  here,  he  will  find  me 
flown,  and  will  have  to  console  himself  with  my  lug- 
gage and  jewels.  He  —  this  Frenchified  beast,  I 
mean  —  has  written  a  note  for  your  daughter,  which 
he  will  give  to  her  maid,  and,  of  course,  the  maid 
will  hand  it  to  you.  So  he  will  have  burned  his 
boats.  And  then  you  can  show  it  to  Matilda,  and 
so,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  'the  miracle  of  opening 
her  eyes  will  be  worked.  Johnnie,  my  husband,  and 
I  will  be  hungry  when  we  return  about  half-past  ten. 
And  I  think  you  had  better  telegraph  that  there 
is  whooping  cough,  or  bubonic  plague,  or  something 
in  the  house,  and  put  off  your  shooting  party.' 

'  But  that  would  be  an  untruth,'  said  Mrs.  Malory. 

*  And  what  have  I  been  acting  for  the  last  ten 
days?'  asked  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  rather  tartly.  '  You 
must  settle  your  excuse  with  your  conscience.' 

*  The  cook's  mother  really  is  ill,'  said  Mrs.  Malory, 
'  and  she  wants  dreadfully  to  go  and  see  her.  That 
would  do.' 

'  All  things  work  together  for  good.  The  cook 
must  have  a  telegram  also,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith. 

The  day,  which  had  been  extremely  hot,  clouded 
over.  By  five  it  was  raining:  by  six  there  was  a 
deluge.  At  seven,  Matilda  and  the  Vidame  were 
evicted  from  their  dusky  window  seat  by  the  butler 
with  a  damp  telegraph  envelope.  The  Vidame 
opened  it,  and  handed  it  to  Matilda.  His  presence 
at  Paris  was  instantly  demanded.  The  Vidame  was 
desolated,  but  his  absence  could  not  be  for  more  than 
five  days.     Bradshaw  was  hunted  for,  and  found :  the 

U 


i62  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

9.50  train  was  opportune.  TheVidame's  man  packed 
his  clothes.  Mrs.  Brown-Smith  was  apprised  of  these 
occurrences  in  the  drawing-room  before  dinner. 

'  I  am  very  sorry  for  dear  Matilda,'  she  cried.  '  But 
it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good.  I  will 
drive  over  with  the  Vidame  .and  astonish  my  Johnnie 
by  greeting  him  at  the  station.  I  must  run  and 
change  my  dress.' 

She  ran,  she  returned  in  morning  costume,  she 
heard  from  Mrs.  Malory  of  the  summons  by  telegram 
calling  the  cook  to  her  moribund  mother.  '  I  must  send 
her  over  to  the  station  in  a  dog-cart,'  said  Mrs.  Malory. 

'  Oh  no,'  cried  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  with  impetuous 
kindness,  *  not  on  a  night  like  this;  it  is  a  cataclysm. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  room  for  the  cook  as  well 
as  for  Methven  and  me,  and  the  Vidame,  in  the 
brougham.     Or  he  can  sit  on  the  box.' 

The  Vidame  really  behaved  very  well.  The  intro- 
duction of  the  cook,  to  quote  an  old  novelist,  '  had 
formed  no  part  of  his  proflfgate  scheme  of  pleasure.' 
To  elope  from  a  hospitable  roof,  with  a  married  lady, 
accompanied  by  her  maid,  might  be  an  act  not  with- 
out precedent.  But  that  a  cook  should  come  to  form 
une  partie  carree,  on  such  an  occasion,  that  a  lover 
should  be  squeezed  with  three  women  in  a  brougham, 
was  a  trying  novelty. 

The  Vidame  smiled,  '  An  artist  so  excellent,'  he 
said,  '  deserves  a  far  greater  sacrifice.' 

So  it  was  arranged.  After  a  tender  and  solitary 
five  minutes  with  Matilda,  the  Vidame  stepped,  last, 
into  the  brougham.  The  coachman  whipped  up  the 
horses,  Matilda  waved  her  kerchief  from  the  porch, 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  LADY   PATRONESS     163 

the  guilty  lovers  drove  away.  Presently  Mrs.  Malory 
received,  from  her  daughter's  maid,  the  letter  destined 
by  the  Vidamc  for  Matilda.  Mrs.  Malory  locked  it 
up  in  her  despatch  box. 

The-  runaways,  after  a  warm  and  uncomfortable 
drive  of  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  during  which  the 
cook  wept  bitterly  and  was  very  unwell,  reached  the 
station.  Contrary  to  the  Vidame's  wish,  Mrs.  Brown- 
Smith,  in  an  ulster  and  a  veil,  insisted  on  perambu- 
lating the  platform,  buying  the  whole  of  Mr.  Hall 
Caine's  works  as  far  as  they  exist  in  sixpenny  edi- 
tions. Bells  rang,  porters  stationed  themselves  in  a 
line,  hke  fielders,  a  train  arrived,  the  9.17  from  Liver- 
pool, twenty  minutes  late.  A  short  stout  gentleman 
emerged  from  a  smoking  carriage,  Mrs.  Brown-Smith, 
starting  from  the  Vidame's  side,  raised  her  veil,  and 
threw  her  arms  round  the  neck  of  the  traveller. 

'  You  did  n't  expect  me  to  meet  you  on  such  a  night, 
did  you,  Johnnie  ? '  she  cried  with  a  break  in  her  voice. 

'  Awfully  glad  to  see  you,  Tiny,'  said  the  short 
gentleman.     '  On  such  a  night !  ' 

After  thus  unconsciously  quoting  the  Merchant  of 
Venice,  Mr.  Brown-Smith  turned  to  his  valet.  '  Don't 
forget  the  fishing-rods,'  he  said. 

'  I  took  the  opportunity  of  driving  over  with  a 
gentleman  from  Upwold,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith. 
'  Let  me  introduce  him.  Methven,'  to  her  maid, 
'where  is  the  Vidame  de  la  Lain?' 

'  I  heard  him  say  that  he  must  help  Mrs.  Andrews, 
the  cook,  to  find  a  seat.  Ma'am,'  said  the  maid. 

'  He  really  is  kind,'  said  Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  '  but  I 
fear  we  can't  wait  to  say  good-bye  to  him,' 


i64  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  later,  Mr.  Brown-Smith 
and  his  wife  were  at  supper  at  Upwold. 

Next  day,  as  the  cook's  departure  had  postponed 
the  shooting  party,  they  took  leave  of  their  hostess, 
and  returned  to  their  moors  in  Perthshire. 

Weeks  passed,  with  no  message  from  the  Vidame. 
He  did  not  answer  a  letter  which  Mrs.  Malory 
allowed  Matilda  to  write.  The  mother  never 
showed  to  the  girl  the  note  which  he  had  left  with 
her  maid.  The  absence  and  the  silence  of  the  lover 
were  enough.  Matilda  never  knew  that  among  the 
four  packed  in  the  brougham  on  that  night  of  rain, 
one  had  been  eloping  with  a  married  lady  —  who 
returned  to  supper. 

The  papers  were  '  requested  to  state  that  the  mar- 
riage announced  between  the  Vidame  de  la  Lain  and 
Miss  Malory  will  not  take  place.'  Why  it  did  not 
take  place  was  known  only  to  Mrs.  Malory,  Mrs. 
Brown-Smith,  and   Merton. 

Matilda  thought  that  her  lover  had  been  kidnapped 
and  arrested,  by  the  Secret  Police  of  France,  for  his 
part  in  a  scheme  to  restore  the  Royal  House,  the 
White  Flag,  the  Lilies,  the  children  of  St.  Louis.  At 
Mrs.  Brown-Smith's  place  in  Perthshire,  in  the  follow- 
ing autumn,  Matilda  met  Sir  Alymer  Jardine.  Then 
she  knew  that  what  she  had  taken  for  love  (in  the 
previous  year)  had  been, 

'  Not  love,  but  love's  first  flush  in  j'outh.' 

They  always  do  make  that  discovery,  bless  them ! 
Lady  Jardine  is  now  wrapped  up  in  her  baby  boy. 
The  mother  of  the  cook  recovered  her  health. 


IX 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY  NOVELIST   AND   THE 
VACCINATIONIST 

MR.  FREDERICK  WARREN'  — so  Merton 
read  the  card  presented  to  him  on  a  sah^er 
of  Limoges  enamel  by  the  office-boy. 

'  Show  the  gentleman  in.' 

Mr.  Warren  entered.  He  was  a  tall  and  portly 
person,  with  a  red  face,  red  whiskers,  and  a  tightly 
buttoned  frock-coat,  which  more  expressed  than  hid 
his  goodly  and  prominent  proportions.  He  bowed, 
and  Merton  invited  him  to  be  seated.  It  struck 
Merton  as  a  singular  circumstance  that  his  visitor 
wore  on  each  arm  the  crimson  badge  of  the  newly 
vaccinated. 

Mr.  Warren  sat  down,  and,  taking  a  red  silk  hand- 
kerchief out  of  the  crown  of  his  hat,  he  wiped  his 
countenance.  The  day  was  torrid,  and  Mr.  Merton 
hospitably  offered  an  effervescent  draught. 

'  Without  the  whisky,  if  you  please,  sir,'  said  Mr. 
Warren,  in  a  provincial  accent.  He  pointed  to  a  blue 
ribbon  in  the  buttonhole  of  his  coat,  indicating  that 
he  was  conscientiously  opposed  to  the  use  of  alcoholic 
refreshment  in  all  its  forms. 

'  Two  glasses  of  Apollinaris  water,'  said  Merton  to 
the  office-boy;  and  the  innocent  fluid  was  brought. 


i66  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

while  Merton  silently  admired  his  client's  arrange- 
ment in  blue  and  crimson.  When  the  thirst  of  that 
gentleman  had  been  assuaged,  he  entered  upon  busi- 
ness thus : 

'  Sir,  I  am  a  man  of  principle  ! ' 

Merton  congratulated  him ;  the  age  was  lax,  he 
said,  and  principle  was  needed.  He  wondered  inter- 
nally what  he  was  going  to  be  asked  to  subscribe  to, 
or  whether  his  vote  only  was  required. 

'  Sir,  have  you  been  vaccinated  ?  '  asked  the  client 
earnestly. 

*  Really,'  said  Merton,  '  I  do  not  quite  understand 
your  interest  in  a  matter  so  purely  personal.' 

'  Personal,  sir?  Not  at  all.  It  is  the  first  of  public 
duties  —  the  debt  that  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
owes  to  his  or  her  country.  Have  you  been  vac- 
cinated, sir? ' 

'  Why,  if  you  insist  on  knowing,'  said  Merton, 
'  I  have,  though    I  do  not  see ' 

'  Recently?'  asked  the  visitor. 

'  Yes,     last    month  ;     but    I     cannot     conjecture 

why ' 

'  Enough,  sir,'  said  Mr.  Warren.  *  I  am  a  man  of 
principle.  Had  you  not  done  your  duty  in  this  matter 
by  your  country,  I  should  have  been  compelled  to 
seek  some  other  practitioner  in  your  line.' 

'  I  was  not  aware  that  my  firm  had  any  competitors 
in  our  line  of  business,'  said  Merton.  '  But  perhaps 
you  have  come  here  under  some  misapprehension. 
There  is  a  firm  of  family  solicitors  on  the  floor  above, 
and  next  them  are  the  offices  of  a  company  interested 
in  a  patent  explosive.     If  your  affairs,  or  your  politi- 


ADlVENTURE  of  the   lady   novelist    167 

cal  ideas,  demand  a  legal  opinion,  or  an  outlet  in  an 
explosive  which  is  widely  recommended  by  the  Con- 
tinental Press ' 

'  For  what  do  you  take  me,  sir?  '  asked  Mr.  Warren. 

'  For.  a  Temperance  Anarchist,'  Merton  would  have 
liked  to  reply,  '  judging  by  your  colours  ' ;  but  he 
repressed  this  retort,  and  mildly  answered,  '  Perhaps 
it  would  be  as  much  to  the  purpose  to  ask,  for  what 
do  you  take  me  ?' 

'  For  the  representative  of  Messrs.  Gray  &  Graham, 
the  specialists  in  matrimonial  affairs,'  answered  the  cli- 
ent; and  Merton  said  that  he  would  be  happy  if  Mr. 
Warren  would  enter  into  the  details  of  his  business. 

'  I  am  the  ex-Mayor  of  Bulcester,'  said  Mr.  Warren, 
'  and,  as  I  told  you,  a  man  of  principle.  My  attach- 
ment to  the  Temperance  cause  '  —  and  he  fingered 
his  blue  ribbon — 'procured  for  me  the  honour  of  a 
defeat  at  the  last  general  election,  but  endeaned  me 
to  the  consciences  of  the  Nonconformist  element 
in  the  constituency.  Yet,  sir,  I  am  at  this  moment 
the  most  unpopular  man  in  Bulcester;  but  I  shall 
fight  it  out  —  I  shall  fight  it  to  my  latest  breath.' 

'  Is  Bulcester,  then,  such  an  intemperate  constitu- 
ency? I  had  understood  that  the  Nonconformist 
interest  was  strong  there,'  said  Merton. 

'  So  it  is,  sir,  so  it  is ;  but  the  interest  is  now  bound 
to  the  chariot  wheels  of  the  truckling  Toryism  of  our 
time  —  to  the  sycophants  who  barely  made  vaccina- 
tion permissive,  and  paltered  with  the  Conscientious 
Objector.  These  badges,  sir'  —  the  client  pointed 
to  his  own  crimson  decorations  —  'proclaim  that  I 
have  been  vaccinated  on  botA  arms,  as  a  testimony 


i68  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

to  the  immortal  though,  in  Bulcester,  maligned  dis- 
covery of  the  great  Jenner.  Sir,  I  am  hooted  in  the 
public  streets  of  my  native  town,  where  Anti-vaccina- 
tionism  is  a  frenzy.  Mr.  Rider  Haggard,  the  author  of 
Dr.  Theme,  has  been  burned  in  e^gy  for  his  thrilling 
and  manly  protest  to  which  I  owe  my  own  conversion.' 

'Then  the  conversion  is  relatively  recent?  '  asked 
Merton. 

'  It  dates  since  my  reading  of  that  powerful  argu- 
ment, sir ;  that  appeal  to  reason  which  overcame  my 
prejudice,  for  I  was  a  prominent  A.  V.' 

'Ave?'  asked  Merton. 

'  A.  v.,  sir  —  Anti-Vaccinationist.  A.  C.  D.  A.  too, 
and  always,'  he  added  proudly;  but  Merton  did  not 
think  it  prudent  to  ask  for  further  explanations. 

'  An  A.  V.  I  was,  an  A.  V.  I  am  no  longer ;  and  I 
defy  popular  clamour,  accompanied  by  brickbats,  to 
shake  my  principles.' 

' Justwn  et  tanaccvi  propositi  viriun^  murmured 
Merton,  adding,  '  All  that  is  very  interesting,  but,  my 
dear  sir,  while  I  admire  the  tenacity  of  your  princi- 
ples, will  you  permit  me  to  ask,  what  has  vaccination 
to  do  with  the  special  business  of  our  firm?  ' 

'  Why,  sir,  I  have  a  family,  and  my  eldest  son ' 

'  Does  he  decHne  to  be  vaccinated? '  asked  Merton, 
in  a  sympathetic  voice. 

'  No,  sir,  or  he  would  never  darken  my  doorway,' 
exclaimed  this  more  than  Roman  father.  '  But  he  is 
engaged,  and  I  can  never  give  my  consent;  and 
if  he  marries  that  girl,  the  firm  ceases  to  be  "  Warren 
&  5^;/,  wax-cloth  manufacturers."  That's  all,  sir  — 
that's    all.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   LADY   NOVELIST    169 

Mr.  Warren  again  applied  his  red  handkerchief  to 
his  glowing  features. 

'  And  what,  may  I  ask,  are  the  grounds  of  your 
objection  to  this  engagement?  Social  inequality?' 
asked  Merton. 

'  No,  the  young  lady  is  the  daughter  of  one  of  our 
leading  ministers,  Mr.  Truman  —  author  of  The 
Bishops  to  the  Block — but  principles  are  concerned.' 

'  You  cannot  mean  that  the  young  lady  is  exces- 
sively addicted  to  the  —  wine  cup  ?  '  asked  Merton 
gravely.  '  In  melancholy  cases  of  that  kind  Mr.  Hall 
Caine,  in  a  romance,  has  recommended  hypnotic 
treatment,  but  we  do  not  venture  to  interfere.' 

'  You  misunderstand  me,  sir,'  replied  Mr.  Warren, 
frowning.  *  The  young  woman,  on  principle,  as  they 
call  it,  has  never  been  vaccinated.  Like  most  of  our 
prominent  citizens,  her  father  (otherwise  an  excellent 
man)  objects  to  what  he  calls  "  The  Worship  of  the 
Calf"  on  grounds  of  conscience.' 

'  Conscience !  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  constrain  the 
conscience,'  murmured  Merton,  quoting  a  remark  of 
Queen  Mary  to  John  Knox. 

'  What  is  conscience  without  knowledge,  sir?  '  asked 
the  client,  using  —  without  knowing  it  —  the  very 
argument  of  Mr.  Knox  to  the  Queen. 

'You  have  no  other  objections  to  the  alliance?' 
asked  Merton. 

'  None  whatever,  sir.  She  is  a  good  and  good-look- 
ing girl.  On  most  important  points  we  are  thoroughly 
agreed.  She  won  a  prize  essay  on  Bacon's  author- 
ship of  Shakespeare's  plays.  Of  course  Shakespeare 
could  not  have  written  them — a  thoroughly  unedu- 


I70  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

cated  man,  who  never  could  have  passed  the  fourth 
standard.  But  look  at  the  plays!  There  are  things 
in  them  that,  with  all  our  modern  advantages,  are 
beyond  me.  I  admit  they  are  beyond  me.  "  To  be, 
and  to  do,  and  to  suffer,"  *  declaimed  Mr.  Warren, 
apparently  under  the  impression  that  this  is  part  of 
Hamlet's  soliloquy  —  'Shakespeare  could  never  have 
written  tJiat.     Where  did  Jie  learn  grammar?  ' 

'  Where,  indeed  ?  '  replied  Merton.  '  But  as  the 
lady  is  in  all  other  respects  so  suitable  a  match,  can- 
not this  one  difficulty  be  got  over?' 

'  Impossible,  sir;  my  son  could  not  slice  the  sleeve 
in  her  dress  and  inflict  this  priceless  boon  on  her 
with  affectionate  violence.  Even  the  hero  of  Dr. 
Theme  failed  there ' 

*  And  rather  irritated  his  pretty  Jane,'  added  Mer- 
ton, who  remembered  this  heroic  adventure.  '  It  is 
a  very  hard  case/  he  went  on,  '  but  I  fear  that  our 
methods  are  powerless.  The  only  chance  w^ould  be 
to  divert  young  Mr.  Warren's  affections  into  some 
other  more  enlightened  channel.  That  expedient  has 
often  been  found  efficacious.  Is  he  very  deeply  en- 
amoured? Would  not  the  society  of  another  pretty 
and  intelligent  girl  perhaps  work  wonders?' 

'  Perhaps  it  might,  sir,  but  I  don't  know  where  to 
find  any  one  that  would  attract  my  James.  Except  for 
political  meetings,  and  a  literary  lecture  or  two,  with 
a  magic-lantern  and  a  piano,  we  have  not  much  social 
relaxation  at  Bulcester.  We  object  to  promiscuous 
dancing,  on  grounds  of  conscience.  Also,  of  course, 
to  the  stage.' 

*  Ah,  so  you  do  allow  for  the  claims  of  conscience, 
do  you? ' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    171 

'For  what  do  you  take  me,  sir?  Only,  of  course 
the  conscience  must  be  enlightened,*  said  Mr.  War- 
ren, as  other  earnest  people  usually  do. 

*  Certainly,  certainly,'  said  Merton ;  '  nothing  so 
dangerous  as  the  unenlightened  conscience.  Why, 
in  this  very  matter  of  marriage  the  conscience  of  the 
Mormons  leads  them  to  singular  aberrations,  while 
that  of  the  Arunta  tribe  —  but  I  should  only  pain  you 
if  I  pursued  the  subject.  You  said  that  your  Society 
indulged  in  literary  lectures :  is  your  programme  for 
the  season  filled  up?  ' 

'  I  am  President  of  the  Bulcester  Literary  Society,' 
said  Mr.  Warren,  '  and  I  ought  to  know.  We  have  a 
vacancy  for  Friday  Aveek;  but  why  do  you  inquire? 
In  fact  I  want  a  lecturer  on  "  The  Use  and  Abuse  of 
Novels,"  now  you  ask.  Our  people,  somehow,  always 
want  their  literary  lectures  to  be  about  novels.  I  try 
to  make  the  lecturers  take  a  lofty  moral  tone,  and 
usually  entertain  them  at  my  house,  where  I  probe 
their  ideas,  and  w'arn  them  that  we  must  have  nothing 
loose.  Once,  sir,  we  had  a  lecturer  on  "  The  Oldest 
Novel  in  the  World."  He  gave  us  a  terrible  shock, 
sir !  I  never  saw  so  many  red  cheeks  in  a  Bulcester 
audience.  And  the  man  seemed  quite  unaware  of  the 
effect  he  was  producing.' 

'  Short-sighted,  perhaps?  '  said  Merton. 

'  Ever  since  we  have  been  very  careful.  But,  sir, 
we  seem  to  have  got  away  from  the  subject.' 

'  It  is  only  seeming,'  said  Merton.  '  I  have  an  idea 
which  may  be  of  service  to  you.' 

'  Thank  you,  most  kindly,'  said  Mr,  Warren.  '  But 
as  how  ? ' 


4  72  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Does  your  Society  ever  employ  lady  lecturers?' 

*  We  prefer  them ;  we  are  all  for  enlarging  the 
sphere  of  woman's  activity  —  virtuous  activity,  I 
mean.' 

'  That  is  fortunate,'  remarked  Merton.  '  You  said 
just  now  that  to  try  the  plan  of  a  counter-attraction 
was  difficult,  because  there  was  little  of  social  relaxa- 
tion in  your  Society,  and  you  knew  no  lady  who  had 
the  opportunities  necessary  for  presenting  an  agree- 
able alternative  to  the  charms  of  Miss  Truman.  A 
young  man's  fancy  is  often  caught  merely  by  the 
juxtaposition  of  a  single  member  of  the  opposite  sex, 
with  whom  he  contracts  a  custom  of  walking  home 
from  chapel.' 

*  That 's  mostly  the  way  at  Bulcester,'  said  Mr. 
Warren. 

'  Well,'  Merton  went  on,  '  you  are  in  the  habit  of 
entertaining  the  lecturers  at  your  house.  Now,  I 
know  a  young  lady  —  one  of  our  staff,  in  fact — who 
is  very  well  qualified  to  lecture  on  "  The  Use  and 
Abuse  of  Novels."  She  is  a  novelist  herself;  one  of 
the  most  serious  and  improving  of  our  younger 
writers.  In  her  works  virtue  (after  struggles)  is  al- 
ways rewarded,  and  vice  (especially  if  gilded)  is  held 
up  to  execration,  though  never  allowed  to  display 
itself  in  colours  which  would  bring  a  blush  to  the 
cheek  of —  a  white  rabbit.  Here  is  her  portrait,'  said 
Merton,  taking  up  a  family  periodical,  The  Young  Girl. 
This  blameless  journal  was  publishing  a  serial  story 
by  Miss  Martin,  one  of  the  ladies  who  had  been  en- 
listed at  the  dinner  given  by  Logan  and  Merton  when 
they  founded  their  Society.     A  photograph  of  Miss 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    LADY   NOVELIST    173 

Martin,  in  white  and  in  a  large  shadowy  hat,  was 
pubHshed  in  TJie  Young  Girl,  and  certainly  no  one 
could  have  recognised  in  this  conscientiously  inno- 
cent and  domestic  portrait  the  fair  author  of  romances 
of  social  adventure  and  unimagined  crime.  '  There 
you  see  our  young  friend,'  said  Merton ;  '  and  the 
magazine,  to  which  she  is  a  regular  contributor,  is  a 
voucher  for  her  character  as  an  author.' 

Mr.  Warren  closely  scrutinised  the  portrait,  which 
displayed  loveliness  and  candour  in  a  very  agreeable 
way,  and  arranged  in  the  extreme  of  modest  sim- 
plicity. 

'  That  is  a  young  woman  who  bears  her  testimo- 
nials in  her  face,'  said  Mr.  Warren.  '  She  is  one  whom 
a  father  can  trust  —  but  has  she  been  vaccinated?* 

'  Early  and  often,'  answered  Merton  reassuringly. 
'  Girls  with  faces  like  hers  do  not  care  to  run  any 
risks.' 

'  Jane  Truman  does,  though  my  son  has  put  it  to 
her,  I  know,  on  the  ground  of  her  looks.  ''Nothing," 
she  said,  "  will  ever  induce  me  to  submit  to  that  filthy, 
that  revolting  operation." ' 

' "  Conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all,"  as 
Bacon  says,'  replied  Merton,  '  or  at  least  of  such  of 
us  as  are  unenlightened.  But  to  come  to  business. 
What  do  you  think  of  asking  our  young  friend  down 
to  lecture  —  on  Friday  week,  I  think  you  said — on 
the  Use  and  Abuse  of  Novels?  You  could  easily  per- 
suade her,  I  dare  say,  to  stay  over  Sunday  —  longer 
if  necessary — and  then  young  Mr.  Warren  would  at 
least  find  out  that  there  is  more  than  one  young 
woman  in  the  world.' 


174  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  your  friend,'  answered 
Mr.  Warren.  'At  Bulcester  we  welcome  intellect, 
and  a  real  novelist  of  moral  tendencies  would  make 
quite  a  sensation  in  our  midst.' 

'They  are  but  too  scarce  at  present,'  Merton 
answered  —  '  novelists  of  high  moral  tone.' 

'  She  is  not  a  Christian  Scientist?'  asked  Mr.  War- 
ren anxiously.  '  They  reject  vaccination,  like  all  other 
means  appointed,  and  rely  on  miracles,  which  ceased 
with  the  Apostolic  age,  being  no  longer  necessary.' 

'  The  lady,  I  can  assure  you,  is  not  a  Christian 
Scientist,'  said  Merton  *  but  comes  of  an  Evangelical 
family.  Shall  I  give  you  her  address?  In  my  opinion 
it  would  be  best  to  write  to  her  from  Bulcester,  on  the 
official  paper  of  the  Literary  Society.'  For  Merton 
wished  to  acquaint  Miss  Martin  with  the  nature  of  her 
mission,  lecturing  being  an  art  which  she  had  never 
cultivated. 

'There  is  just  one  thing,'  remarked  Mr.  Warren 
hesitatingly.  '  This  young  lady,  if  our  James  lets  his 
affections  loose  on  her  —  how  would  tJiat  be,  sir?  * 

Merton  smiled. 

'  Why,  no  great  harm  would  be  done,  Mr.  Warren. 
You  need  not  fear  any  complication :  any  new  mat- 
rimonial difficulty.  The  affection  would  be  all  on  one 
side,  and  that  side  would  not  be  the  lady  lecturer's. 
I  happen  to  know  that  she  has  a  prior  attachment.' 

'  Vaccinated  !  '  cried  Mr.  Warren,  letting  a  laugh 
out  of  him. 

'  Exactly,'  said  Merton. 

Mr.  Warren  now  gladly  concurred  in  the  plan 
pf  his  adviser,  after  which    the   interview  was  con- 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    175 

cerned  with  financial  details.  Merton  usually  left 
these  vague,  but  in  Mr.  Warren  he  saw  a  client  who 
would  feel  more  confidence  if  everything  was  put  on 
a  strictly  business  footing.  The  client  retired  in  a 
hopeful  frame  of  mind,  and  Merton  went  to  look  for 
Miss  Martin  at  her  club,  where  she  was  usually  to  be 
found  at  the  hour  of  tea. 

He  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  her,  dressed  by 
no  means  after  the  style  of  her  portrait  in  The  Yomtg 
Girl,  but  still  very  well  dressed.  She  offered  him  the 
refreshment  of  tea  and  toast — very  good  toast,  Merton 
thought  —  and  he  asked  how  her  craft  as  a  novelist 
was  prospering.  Friends  of  Miss  Martin  were  obliged 
to  ask,  for  they  did  not  read  The  Young  Girl,  or  the 
other  and  less  domestic  serials  in  which  her  works 
appeared. 

'  I  am  doing  very  well,  thank  you,'  said  Miss  Martin. 
'  My  tale  The  Curate's  Family  has  raised  the  circula- 
tion of  TJie  Young  Girl ;  and,  mind  you,  it  is  no  easy 
thing  for  a  novelist  to  raise  the  circulation  of  any  peri- 
odical. For  example,  if  The  Quarterly  Review  pub- 
lished a  new  romance,  even  by  Mr.  Thomas  Hardy, 
I  doubt  if  the  end  would  justify  the  proceedings.' 

'  It  would  take  about  four  years  to  get  finished  in  a 
quarterly,'  said  Merton. 

'  And  the  nonagenarians  who  read  quarterlies,'  said 
Miss  Martin,  with  the  flippancy  of  youth,  *  would 
go  to  their  graves  without  knowing  whether  the  hero- 
ine found  a  lenient  jury  or  not.  I  have  six  heroines 
in  The  Curate' s  Family,  and  I  own  their  love  affairs 
tend  to  get  a  little  mixed.  I  have  rigged  up  a  small 
stage,  with  puppets  in  costume  to  represent  the  char- 


176  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

acters,  and  keep  them  straight  in  my  mind ;  but 
EtheUnda,  who  is  engaged  to  the  photographer,  as 
nearly  as  possible  eloped  with  the  baronet  last  week.' 

'Anything  else  on?'  asked  Merton. 

'  An  up-to-date  story,  all  heredity  and  evolution,' 
said  Miss  Martin.  '  The  father  has  his  legs  bitten  off 
by  a  shark,  and  it  gets  on  the  nerves  of  his  wife,  the 
Marchioness,  and  two  of  the  girls  are  born  like  mer- 
maids. They  have  immense  popularity  at  bathing- 
places  on  the  French  coast,  but  it  is  not  easy  for  them 
to  go  into  general  society.' 

'  What  nonsense  ! '  exclaimed  Merton. 

'  Not  worse  than  other  stuff  that  is  highly  recom- 
mended by  eminent  reviewers,'  said  Miss  Martin. 

'Anything  else?  ' 

'  Oh,  yes  ;  there  is  "  The  Pope's  Poisoner,  a  Tale  of 
the  Borgias."  That  is  a  historical  romance,  I  got  it 
up  out  of  Histories  of  the  Renaissance.  The  hero 
(Lionardo  da  Vinci)  is  the  Pope's  bravo,  and  in  love 
with  Lucrezia  Borgia.' 

'Are  the  dates  all  right?'  asked  Merton. 

'  Oh,  bother  the  dates !  Of  course  he  is  a  bravo 
pourle  bon  motif,  and  frustrates  the  pontifical  designs.' 

'  I  want  you,'  said  Merton,  '  you  have  such  a  fertile 
imagination,  to  take  part  in  a  little  plot  of  our  own. 
Beneficent,  of  course,  but  I  admit  that  my  fancy  is 
baffled.  Could  we  find  a  room  less  crowded  ?  This 
is  rather  private  business.' 

'  There  is  never  anybody  in  the  smoking-room 
at  the  top  of  the  house,'  said  Miss  Martin,  '  be- 
cause—  to  let  out  a  secret  —  none  of  us  ever  smoke, 
except  at  public  dinners  to  give  tone.     But  you  may.' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    177 

She  led  Merton  to  a  sepulchral  little  chamber 
upstairs,  and  he  told  her  all  the  story  of  Mr.  Warren, 
his  son,  and  the  daughter  of  the  minister. 

'  Why  don't  they  elope? '  asked  Miss  Martin. 

'  The  Nonconformist  conscience  is  unfriendly  to 
elopements,  and  the  young  man  has  no  accomplish- 
ment by  which  he  could  support  his  bride  except  the 
art  of  making  oilcloth.' 

'  Well,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?' 

Merton  unfolded  the  scheme  of  the  lady  lecturer, 
and  prepared  Miss  Martin  to  receive  an  invitation 
from  Mr.  Warren. 

'  Can  you  write  a  lecture  on  "  The  Use  and  Abuse 
of  Novels  "  before  Friday  week?'  he  asked. 

'  Say  seven  thousand  words?  I  could  do  it  by 
to-morrow  morning,'  said  Miss  Martin. 

'  You  know  you  must  be  very  careful  ?  ' 

'  Style  of  answers  to  correspondents  in  The  Young 
Girl,'  said  Miss  Martin.     '  I  know  my  way  about.' 

'  Then  you  really  will  essay  the  adventure  ?  ' 

*  Like  a  bird,'  answered  the  lady.  '  It  will  be  great 
fun.  I  shall  pick  up  copy  about  the  habits  of  the 
middle  classes  in  the  Midlands.' 

'  They  won't  recognise  you  as  the  author  of  your 
more  criminal  romances  .-' ' 

'How  can  they?  I  sign  them  "Passion  Flower" 
and  "  Nightshade,"  and  "  La  Tofana,"  and  so  on.' 

'  You  will  dress  as  in  your  photograph  in  The 
Young  Girl  ? ' 

'I  will,  and  take  a  Jichu  to   wear  in   the   evening. 

They  always  wear  fichus  in  evening  dress.     But,  look 

here,  do  you  want  a  happy  ending  to  this  romance?' 

12 


178  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  How  can  it  be  happy  if  you  are  to  be  successful? 
Miss  Jane  Truman  will  be  miserable,  and  Mr.  James 
Warren  will  die  of  remorse  and  a  broken  heart, 
when  you ' 

'  Fail  to  crown  his  flame,  and  Jane  has  too  much 
pride  to  welcome  back  the  wanderer?' 

*  I  'm  afraid  that,  or  something  like  that,  will  be  the 
end  of  it,'  said  Merton,  '  and,  perhaps,  on  reflection, 
we  had  better  drop  the  affair.' 

'But  suppose  I  could  manage  a  happy  ending? 
Suppose  I  reconcile  Mr.  Warren  to  the  union?  I  am 
all  for  happy  endings  myself.  I  drink  to  King 
Charles  II.,  who  declared  that  while  he  was  king  all 
tragedies  should  end  happily.* 

'  You  don't  mean  that  you  can  persuade  Jane  to  be 
vaccinated?' 

'  One  never  knows  till  one  tries.  You  '11  find  that 
I  shall  make  a  happy  conclusion  to  my  Borgia  novel, 
and  that  is  not  so  easy.  You  see  Lionardo  goes  to 
the  Pope's  jeweller  and  exchanges  the ' 

Miss  Martin  paused  and  remained  absorbed  in 
thought. 

Suddenly  she  danced  round  the  room  with  much 
grace  and  abandon,  while  Merton,  smoking  in  an 
armchair  that  had  lost  a  castor,  gently  applauded 
the  performance. 

'  You  have  your  idea?'  he  asked. 

'  I  have  it.     Happy  ending !     Hurrah  !  ' 

Miss  Martin  spun  round  like  a  dancing  Dervish,  and 
finally  fell  into  another  armchair,  overcome  by  the 
heat  and  the  intoxication  of  genius. 

'We  owe  a  candle  to  Saint  Alexander  Borgia !'  she 
said,  when  she  recovered  her  breath. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    179 

'Miss  Martin,'  said  Merton  gravely,  'this  is  a 
serious  matter.  You  are  not  going,  I  trust,  to  poison 
the  lemons  for  the  elder  Mr.  Warren's  lemon  squash? 
He  is  strictly  Temperance,  you  know.' 

'  Poison  the  lemons  ?  With  a  hypodermic  syringe  ?  ' 
asked  Miss  Martin.  'No;  that  is  good  business. 
I  have  made  one  of  my  villains  do  that,  but  that  is 
not  my  idea.     Perfectly  harmless,  my  idea.' 

'  But  sensational,  I  fear  } '  asked  Merton. 

'  Some  very  cultured  critics  might  think  so,'  the 
lady  admitted.  '  But  I  am  sure  to  succeed,  and  I 
hear  the  merry,  merry  wedding  bells  of  the  Bulcester 
tabernacle  ringing  a  peal  for  the  happy  pair.' 

•  Well,  what  is  the  plan?' 

'  That  is  my  secret.' 

'  But  I  mtist  know.  I  am  responsible.  Tell  me, 
or  I  telegraph  to  Mr.  Warren :  "  Lecturer  never 
vaccinated ;  sorry  for  my  mistake."  ' 

'That  would  not  be  true,'  said  Miss  Martin. 

'A  noble  falsehood,'  said  Merton. 

'  But  I  assure  you  that  if  my  plan  fails  no  harm  can 
possibly  be  caused  or  suspected.  And  if  it  succeeds 
then  the  thing  is  done :  either  Mr.  Warren  is  recon- 
ciled to  the  marriage,  or — the  marriage  is  broken 
off,  as  he  desires.' 

'  By  whom? ' 

'  By  the  Conscientious  Objectrix,  if  that  is  the 
feminine  of  Objector  —  by  Miss  Jane  Truman.' 

'  Why  should  Jane  break  it  off  if  the  old  gentleman 
agrees? ' 

'  Because  Jane  would  be  a  silly  girl.  Mr.  Merton, 
I  will  promise  you  one  thing.     The  plan  shall  not  be 


i8o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

tried  without  the  approval  of  the  lover  himself.  None 
but  he  shall  be  concerned  in  the  affair.' 

'  You  won't  hypnotise  the  girl  and  let  him  vaccinate 
her  when  she  is  in  the  hypnotic  sleep  ? ' 

'  No,  nor  even  will  I  give  her  a  post-hypnotic 
suggestion  to  vaccinate  herself,  or  go  to  the  doctor's 
and  have  it  done  when  she  is  awake ;  though,'  said 
Miss  Martin, '  that  is  not  bad  business  either.  I  must 
make  a  note  of  that.  But  I  can't  hypnotise  anybody. 
I  tried  lots  of  girls  when  I  was  at  St.  Ursula's  and 
nothing  ever  came  of  it.  Thank  you  for  the  idea  all 
the  same.  By  the  way,  I  first  must  sterilise  the  pon- 
tifical   '     She  paused. 

'The  what?' 

'  That  is  my  secret !  Don't  you  see  how  safe  it  is? 
None  but  the  lover  shall  have  his  and  her  fate  in  his 
hands.     Cest  a  prendre  on  a  laisser.' 

Merton  was  young  and  adventurous. 

'  You  give  me  your  word  that  your  idea  is  absolutely 
safe  and  harmless?     It  involves  no  crime?' 

*  None ;  and  if  you  like,'  said  Miss  Martin,  '  I  will 
bring  you  the  highest  professional  opinion,'  and  she 
mentioned  an  eminent  name  in  the  craft  of  healing. 
'  He  was  our  doctor  when  we  were  children,'  said  the 
lady,  '  and  we  have  always  been  friends.' 

'Well,'  Merton  said,  'what  is  good  enough  for  Sir 
Josiah  Wilkinson  is  good  enough  for  me.  But  you 
will  bring  me  the  document  ?' 

'  The  day  after  to-morrow,'  said  Miss  Martin,  and 
with  that  assurance  Merton  had  to  be  content. 

Sir  Josiah  was  almost  equally  famous  in  the  world 
as  a  physician  and,  in  a  smaller  but  equally  refined 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    LADY   NOVELIST    i8i 

circle,  as  a  virtuoso  and  collector  of  objects  of  art. 
His  opinions  about  the  beneficent  effects  of  vaccina- 
tion were  known  to  be  at  the  opposite  pole  from 
those  of  the  intelligent  population  of  Bulcester. 

On  the  next  day  but  one  Miss  Martin  again  enter- 
tained Merton  at  her  club,  and  demurely  presented 
him  with  three  documents.  These  were  Mr.  Warren's 
invitation,  her  reply  in  acceptance,  and  a  formal 
signed  statement  by  Sir  Josiah  that  her  scheme  was 
perfectly  harmless,  and  commanded  his  admiring 
approval. 

*  Now  !  '  said  Miss  Martin. 

*  I  own  that  I  don't  like  it,'  said  Merton.  '  Logan 
thinks  that  it  is  all  right,  but  Logan  is  a  born  con- 
spirator. However,  as  you  are  set  on  it,  and  as 
Sir  Josiah's  opinion  carries  great  weight,  you  may 
go.  But  be  very  careful.  Have  you  written  your 
lecture?' 

'  Here  is  the  scenario,'  said  Miss  Martin,  handing 
a  typewritten  synopsis  to  Merton. 

'Use  and  Abuse  of  Novels. 

'All  good  things  capable  of  being  abused.  Alcohol 
not  one  of  these  ;  alcohol  always  pernicious.  Fiction, 
on  the  other  hand,  a  good  thing.  Antiquity  o\  fiction. 
In  early  days  couched  in  verse.  Civilisation  prefers 
prose.  Fiction,  from  the  earlier  ages,  intended  to 
convey  Moral  Instruction.  Opinion  of  Aristotle  de- 
fended against  that  of  Plato.  Morality  in  mediaeval 
Romance.  Criticism  of  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison. 
Opinion  of  Moli^re.     Yet  French  novels  usually  im- 


i82  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

moral,  and  why.  Remarks  on  Popery.  To  be 
avoided.  Morality  of  Richardson  and  of  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott.  Impropriety  re-introduced  by  Charlotte 
Bronte.  Unwillingness  of  Lecturer  to  dwell  on  this 
Topic.  The  Novel  is  now  the  whole  of  Literature. 
The  people  have  no  time  to  read  anything  else. 
Responsibilities  of  the  Novelist  as  a  Teacher.  The 
Novel  the  proper  vehicle  of  Theological,  Scientific, 
Social,  and  Political  Instruction.  Mr.  Hall  Caine, 
Miss  Corelli.  Fallacy  of  thinking  that  the  Novel 
should  Amuse.  Abuse  of  the  Novel  as  a  source  of 
mischievous  and  false  Opinions.  Case  of  TJie  Woman 
Who  Did.  Sacredness  of  Marriage.  Study  of  the 
Novel  becomes  an  abuse  if  it  leads  to  the  Neglect 
of  the  Morning  and  Evening  Newspapers.  Sir  Walter 
Besant  on  the  Novel.  None  but  the  newest  Novels 
ought  to  be  read.  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells  on  this  sub- 
ject. Experience  of  the  Lecturer  as  a  Novelist. 
Gratifying   letters    from  persons  happily  influenced 

by  the  Lecturer.     Anecdotes.     Case  of  Miss  A 

C .    Case  of  Mr.  J R .    Unhappy  Endings 

demoralising.  Marriage  the  true  End  of  the  Novel, 
but  the  beginning  of  the  happy  life.  Lecturer  wishes 
her  audience  happy  Endings  and  true  Beginnings. 
Conclusion-' 

'  Will  tJiat  do  ?  '  asked  Miss  Martin  anxiously. 

'  Yes,  if  you  don't  exceed  your  plan,  or  run  into 
chaff.' 

*  I  won't,'  said  Miss  Martin.  *  It  is  all  chaff,  but 
they  won't  see  it.' 

'  I  think  I  would  drop  that  about  Popery,'  said 
Merton  —  'it  ma^  lead  to  letters  in  the  newspapers; 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   LADY   NOVELIST    183 

and  do  be  awfully  careful  about  impropriety  in 
novels.' 

'  I  '11  put  in  "  Vice  to  be  Condemned,  not  De- 
scribed," '  said  Miss  Martin,  pencilling  a  note  on  the 
margin  of  her  paper. 

'  That  seems  safe,'  said  Merton.  '  But  it  cuts  out 
some  of  our  most  powerful  teachers.' 

'  Serve  them  right ! '  said  Miss  Martin.  '  Teachers  ! 
the  arrant  humbugs.' 

'You  will  report  at  once  on  your  return?'  said 
Merton.  '  I  shall  be  on  tenter-hooks  till  I  see  you 
again.  If  I  knew  what  you  are  really  about,  I  'd  take 
counsel's  opinion.  Medical  opinion  does  not  satisfy 
me :   I  want  legal.' 

'  How  nervous  you  are  !  '  said  Miss  Martin,  '  Coun- 
sel would  be  rather  stuck  up,  I  think ;  it  is  a  new  kind  of 
case,'  and  the  lady  laughed  in  an  irritating  way.  *  I  '11 
tell  you  what  I  '11  do,'  she  said.  '  I  '11  telegraph  to 
you  on  the  Monday  morning  after  the  lecture.  If 
everything  goes  well,  I  '11  telegraph,  "  Happy  ending." 
If  anything  goes  wrong  —  but  it  can't  —  I  '11  telegraph, 
"  Unhappy  ending." ' 

'  If  you  do,  I  shall  be  off  to  Callao. 

'  On  no  condition 
Is  Extradition 
Allowed  in  Callao  !  ' 

said  Merton. 

'But  if  there  is  any  uncertainty  —  and  there  may 
be,'  said  Miss  Martin,  '  I  '11  telegraph,  "  Will  report."  ' 

Merton  passed  a  miserable  week  of  suspense  and 
perplexity  of  mind.     Never  had  he  been  so  impru- 


1 84  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

dent ;  he  felt  sure  of  that,  and  it  was  the  only  thing 
of  which  he  did  feel  sure.  The  newspapers  contained 
bulletins  of  an  epidemic  of  smallpox  at  Bulcester. 
How  would  that  work  into  the  plot?  Then  the  high 
animal  spirits  and  daring  fancy  of  Miss  Martin  might 
carry  her  into  undreamed-of  adventures. 

'  But  they  won't  let  her  have  even  a  glass  of  cham- 
pagne,' reflected  Merton.  '  One  glass  makes  her  reck- 
less.* 

It  was  with  a  trembling  hand  that  Merton,  about 
ten  on  the  Monday  morning,  took  the  telegraphic 
envelope  of  Fate. 

'  I  can't  face  it,'  he  said  to  Logan.  '  Read  the  mes- 
sage to  me.'     Merton  was  unmanned  ! 

Logan  carelessly  opened  the  envelope  and  read : 

'  Happy  ending y  but  aivfully  disappointed.  Will  call 
at  one  o'clock.' 

'Oh,  thanks  to  all  gracious  Powers,'  said  Merton, 
falling  Hmply  on  to  a  sofa.  '  Ring,  Logan,  and 
order  a  small  whisky-and-soda.' 

'  I  won't,'  said  Logan.  '  Horrid  bad  habit.  Would 
you  like  me  to  send  out  for  smelling-salts?  Be  a  man, 
Merton  !     Pull  yourself  together  ! ' 

'  You  don't  know  that  awful  girl,'  said  Merton, 
slowly  recovering  self-control.  '  However,  as  she  is 
disappointed  though  the  ending  is  happy,  her  infer- 
nal plan  must  have  been  miscarried,  whatever  it  was. 
It  must  be  all  right,  though  I  sha'n't  be  quite  happy 
till  I  see  her.  I  am  no  coward,  Logan'  (and  Merton 
was  later  to  prove  that  he  possessed  coolness  and 
audacity  in  no  common  measure), '  but  it  is  the  awful 
sense  of  responsibility.  She  is  quite  capable  of  getting 
us  into  the  newspapers.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    LADY   NOVELIST    185 

*  You  funk  being  laughed  at,'  said  Logan. 

Merton  lay  on  the  sofa,  smoking  too  many  cigar- 
ettes, till,  punctually  at  one  o'clock,  a  peal  at  the  bell 
announced  the  arrival  of  Miss  Martin.  She  entered, 
radiant,  smiling,  and  in  her  costume  of  innocence 
she  looked  like  a  sylph. 

*It  is  all  right  —  they  are  engaged,  with  Mr.  War- 
ren's full  approval,'  she  exclaimed. 

'  Were  we  on  the  stage,  I  should  embrace  you !  ' 
exclaimed  Merton  rapturously. 

*  We  are  not  on  the  stage,'  replied  Miss  Martin  de- 
murely. *  And  /  have  no  occasion  to  congratulate  my- 
self. My  plot  did  not  come  off;  never  had  a  look  in. 
Do  you  want  to  be  vaccinated?  If  so,  shake  hands,' 
and  Miss  Martin  extended  her  own  hands  ungloved. 

'  I  do  not  want  to  be  vaccinated,'  said  Merton. 
'  Then  don't  shake  hands,'  said  Miss  Martin. 
'  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ? '  asked  Merton. 
'  Look  there  ! '  said  the  lady,  lifting  her  hand  to  his 
eyes.     Merton  kissed  it. 

*  Oh,  take  care  !  '  shrieked  Miss  Martin.  '  It  would 
be  awkward  —  on  the  lips.     Do  you  see  my  ring?  ' 

Merton  and  Logan  examined  her  ring.  It  was  a 
beautiful  cinque  cento  jewel  in  white  and  blue  enamel, 
with  a  high  gold  top  containing  a  pointed  ruby. 

'  It 's  very  pretty,'  said  Merton  — '  quite  of  the  best 
period.     But  what  is  the  mystery?  ' 

'  It  is  a  poison  ring  of  the  Borgias,'  said  Miss  Mar- 
tin. '  I  borrowed  it  from  Sir  Josiah  Wilkinson.  If  it 
scratched  you  '  (here  she  exhibited  the  mechanism 
of  the  jewel),  '  why,  there  you  are  !  ' 

*  Where  ?     Poisoned  ?  ' 


1 86  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  No  !  Vaccinated  !  '  said  Miss  Martin.  '  It  is  full 
of  the  stuff  they  vaccinate  you  with,  but  it  is  quite 
safe  as  far  as  the  old  poison  goes.  Sir  Josiah  ster- 
ilised it,  in  case  of  accidents,  before  he  put  in  the 
glycerinated  lymph.  My  own  idea !  He  was  de- 
lighted. Shall  I  shake  hands  with  the  office-boy? — 
it  might  do  him  good — or  would  Kutuzoff  give  a 
paw  ? ' 

Kutuzoff  was  the  Russian  cat. 

'  By  no  means  —  not  for  worlds,'  said  Merton. 
'  Kutuzoff  is  a  Conscientious  Objector.  But  were  you 
going  to  shake  hands  with  Miss  Truman  with  that 
horrible  ring?  Sacred  emblems  enamelled  on  it,' 
said  Merton,  gingerly  examining  the  jewel. 

•  No ;  I  was  not  going  to  do  that,'  replied  Miss 
Martin.  '  My  idea  was  to  acquire  the  confidence  of 
the  lover  —  the  younger  Mr.  Warren  — explain  to  him 
how  the  thing  works,  lend  it  to  him,  and  then  let  him 
press  his  Jane's  wrist  with  it  in  some  shady  arbour. 
Then  his  Jane  would  have  been  all  that  the  heart  of 
Mr.  Warren /«'£•  could  desire.    But  it  did  not  come  off.' 

'  Thank  goodness  !  '  ejaculated  Merton.  '  There 
might  have  been  an  awful  row.  I  don't  know  what 
the  offence  would  have  been  in  the  eye  of  the  law. 
Vaccinating  a  Conscientious  Objector,  without  con- 
sent, yet  without  violence,  —  what  would  the  law  say 
to  that  ? ' 

'  We  might  make  it  hamesiicken  under  trust  in 
Scotland,'  said  Logan,  '  if  it  was  done  on  the  prem- 
ises of  the  young  lady's  domicile.' 

'  We  have  not  that  elegant  phrase  in  England,' 
said  Merton.     '  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  a  com,- 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    187 

mon  assault ;  but,  anyhow,  it  would  have  got  into  the 
newspapers.  Never  again  be  officer  of  mine,  Miss 
Martin.' 

'  But  how  did  all  end  happily?'  asked  Logan. 

'  Why,  jw/  may  call  it  happily  and  so  may  the  lov- 
ers, but  /call  it  very  disappointing,'  said  Miss  Martin. 

'  Tell  us  all  about  it !  '  cried  Logan. 

*  Well,  I  went  down,  simple  as  you  see  me.' 

*  SinipUx  mtinditiis,'  said  Merton. 

'And  was  met  at  the  station  by  young  Mr.  Warren. 
His  father,  with  the  wisdom  of  a  Nonconformist  ser- 
pent, had  sent  him  alone  to  make  my  acquaintance 
and  be  fascinated.  My  things  were  put  on  a  four- 
wheeler.  I  was  all  young  enthusiasm  in  the  manner  of 
The  Young  Girl.  He  was  a  good-looking  boy  enough, 
though  in  a  bowler  hat,  with  turn-down  collar.  But 
he  was  gloomy.  I  was  curious  about  the  public 
buildings,  ecstatic  about  the  town  hall,  and  a  kind  of 
Moeso-Gothic  tabernacle  (if  it  was  not  Moeso-Gothic 
in  style  I  don't  know  what  it  was)  where  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Truman  holds  forth.  But  I  could  not  waken  him 
up,  he  seemed  miserable.  I  soon  found  out  the 
reason.  The  placards  of  the  local  newspapers 
shrieked  in  big  type  with 

Spread  of  Smallpox. 
135  Cases. 

When  I  saw  that  I  took  young  Mr.  Warren's  hand.' 
'  Were  you  wearing  the  ring?  '  asked  Merton. 
*No;    it   was    in  my   dressing-bag.     I  said,   "Mr. 
Warren,  I  know  what  care  clouds  your  brow.     You 
are  brooding  over  the  fate  of  the  young,  the  fair,  the 


1 88  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

beloved — the  unvaccinated.  I  know  the  story  of 
your  heart." 

'  "  How  the  D I  mean,  how  do  you  know,  Miss 

Martin,  about  my  private  affairs?  " 

'"A  Httle  bird  has  told  me,"  I  said  (style  of  The 
Young  Girl,  you  know).  "I  have  friends  in  Bulces- 
ter  who  esteem  you.  No,  I  must  not  mention  names, 
but  I  come,  not  too  late,  I  hope,  to  bring  you  security. 
She  shall  be  preserved  from  this  awful  scourge,  and 
you  shall  be  her  preserver."  He  wanted  to  know 
how  it  was  to  be  done,  of  course,  and  after  taking  his 
word  of  honour  for  secrecy,  I  told  him  that  the  remedy 
would  lie  in  his  own  hands,  showed  him  the  ring,  and 
taught  him  how  to  work  it.  Mr.  Squeers, '  went  on 
Miss  Martin,  '  had  never  wopped  a  boy  in  a  cab  before, 
and  I  had  never  beheld  a  scene  of  passionate  emotion 
before  —  in  a  four-wheeler.  He  called  me  his  pre- 
server, he  said  that  I  was  an  angel,  he  knelt  at  my 
feet,  and,  if  we  had  been  on  the  stage  — as  Mr.  Mer- 
ton  said ' 

'  And  were  you  on  the  stage?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  That  is  neither  here  nor  there.  It  was  an  instruc- 
tive experience,  and  you  little  know  the  treasures  of 
passion  that  may  lie  concealed  in  the  heart  of  a  young 
oilcloth  manufacturer.' 

'  Happy  young  oilcloth  manufacturer  !  '  murmured 
Merton. 

'  They  are  both  happy,  but  I  did  not  manage  my 
fortunate  conclusion  in  my  own  way.  When  young 
Mr.  Warren  had  moderated  the  transports  of  his 
gratitude  we  were  in  the  suburbs  of  Bulcester,  where 
the  mill-owners  live  in  houses  of  the  most  promiscu- 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    189 

ous  architecture :  Tudor,  Jacobean,  Queen  Anne, 
Bedford  Park  Queen  Anne,  chalets,  Chineseries,  "  all 
standing  naked  in  the  open  air,"  for  the  trees  have 
not  grown  up  round  them  yet.  Then  we  came  to 
a  gate  without  a  lodge,  the  cabman  got  down  and 
opened  it,  and  we  were  in  the  visible  presence  of  Mr. 
Warren's  villa.  The  style  is  the  Scottish  Baronial ; 
all  pepper-pots,  gables  and  crowsteps. 

'  "  What  a  lovely  old  place  !  "  I  said  to  my  com- 
panion. "  Have  you  secret  passages  and  sliding 
panels  and  dark  turnpike  stairs?  Vl^hat  a  house  for 
conspiracies  !  There  is  a  real  turret  window ;  can't 
you  fancy  it  suddenly  shot  up  and  the  king's  face 
popped  out,  very  red,  and  bellowing,  '  Treason  ! '  " 

'At  that  moment,  when  my  imagination  was  in  full 
career,  the  turret  window  was  shot  up,  and  a  face, 
very  red,  with  red  whiskers,  was  popped  out. 

'  "That  is  my  father,"  said  young  Mr.  Warren;  and 
we  alighted,  and  a  very  small  maidservant  opened 
the  portals  of  the  baronial  hall,  while  the  cabman 
carried  up  my  trunk,  and  Mr.  Warren,  senior,  greeted 
me  in  the  hall. 

' "  Welcome  to  Bulcester !  "  he  said,  with  a  florid 
air,  and  "  hoped  James  and  I  had  made  friends  on 
the  way,"  and  then  he  actually  winked  !  He  is  a 
widower,  and  I  was  dying  for  tea,  but  there  we  sat, 
and  when  the  little  maid  came  in,  it  was  to  say  that 
a  gentleman  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Warren  in  the  study. 
So  he  went  out,  and  then,  James  being  the  victim  of 
gratitude,  I  took  my  courage  in  both  hands  and 
asked  if  I  might  have  tea.  James  said  that  they  usu- 
ally had  it  after  the  lecture  was  over,  which  would  not 


t90  THE   DlSENTANGLERS 

be  till  nine,  and  that  some  people  had  been  asked 
to  meet  me.  Then  I  knew  that  I  was  got  among  a 
strange,  outlandish  race  who  eat  strange  meats  and 
keep  High  Teas,  and  my  spirit  fainted  within  me. 

'"Oh,  Mr.  James!  "  I  said,  "if  you  love  me  have 
a  cup  of  tea  and  some  bread-and-butter  sent  up  to  my 
room,  and  tell  the  maid  to  show  me  the  way  to  it." 

'  So  he  sent  for  her,  and  she  showed  me  to  the  best 
spare  room,  with  oleographs  of  Highland  scenery  on 
the  walls,  and  coloured  Landseer  prints,  and  tartan 
curtains,  and  everything  made  of  ormolu  that  can  be 
made  of  ormolu.  In  about  twenty  minutes  the  girl 
returned  with  tea  and  poached  eggs  and  toast,  and 
jam  and  marmalade.  So  I  dressed  for  the  lecture, 
which  was  to  begin  at  eight  —  just  when  people 
ought  to  be  dining — and  came  down  into  the  draw- 
ing-room. The  elder  Mr.  Warren  was  sitting  alone, 
reading  the  Daily  News,  and  he  rose  with  an  air 
of  happy  solemnity  and  shook  hands  again. 

'  "  You  can  let  James  alone  now,  Miss  Martin," 
he  said,  and  he  winked  again,  rubbed  his  hands,  and 
grinned  all  over  his  expansive  face. 

'  "  Let  James  alone  !  "  I  said. 

'  "  Yes ;  don't  go  upsetting  the  lad  —  he  's  not  used 
to  young  ladies  like  you.  You  leave  James  to  him- 
self. James  will  do  very  well.  I  have  a  little  surprise 
for  James." 

'  He  certainly  had  a  considerable  surprise  for  me, 
but  I  merely  asked  if  it  was  James's  birthday,  which 
it  was  not. 

'  Luckily  James  entered.  All  his  gloom  was  gone, 
thanks  to  me,  and    he  was  remarkably  smiling  and 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    191 

particularly  attentive  to  myself.  Mr.  Warren  seemed 
perplexed. 

'"James,  have  you  heard  any  good  news?"  he 
asked.     "  You  seem  very  gay  all  of  a  sudden." 

'James  caught  my  eye. 

'  "  No,  father,"  he  said.  "  What  news  do  you  mean? 
Anything  in  business  ?    A  large  order  from  Sarawak  ?  " 

*  Mr.  Warren  was  silent,  but  presently  took  me 
into  a  corner  on  the  pretence  of  showing  me  some 
horrible  objet  dart  —  a  treacly  bronze. 

' "  I  say,"  he  said,  "  you  must  have  made  great 
play  in  the  cab  coming  from  the  station.  James 
looks  a  new  man.  I  never  would  have  guessed  him 
to  be  so  fickle.  But,  mind  you,  no  more  of  it !  Let 
James  be  —  he  will  do  very  well. " 

*  How  was  James  to  do  very  well?  Why  were  my 
fascinations  not  to  be.  exercised,  as  per  contract? 
I  began  to  suspect  the  worst,  and  I  was  thinking 
of  nothing  else  while  we  drove  to  the  premises  of  the 
Bulcester  Literary  Society.  Could  Jane  have  drowned 
herself  out  of  the  way,  or  taken  smallpox,  which 
might  ruin  her  charms?  Well,  I  had  not  a  large 
audience,  on  account  of  fear  of  infection,  I  suppose, 
and  all  the  people  present  wore  the  red  badge,  like 
Mr.  Warren,  only  he  wore  one  on  each  arm.  This 
somewhat  amazed  me,  but  as  I  had  never  spoken  in 
public  before  I  was  rather  in  a  flutter.  However, 
I  conquered  my  girlish  shyness,  and  if  the  audience 
was  not  large  it  was  enthusiastic.  When  I  came  to 
the  peroration  about  wishing  them  all  happy  endings 
and  real  beginnings  of  true  life,  don't  you  know,  the 
audience  actually  rose  at  me,  and  cheered  like  any- 


192  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

thing.  Then  someone  proposed,  "Three  cheers  for 
young  Warren,"  and  they  gave  them  Hke  mad;  I  did 
not  know  why,  nor  did  he :  he  looked  quite  pale. 
Then  his  father,  with  tears  in  his  voice,  proposed 
a  vote  of  thanks  to  me,  and  said  that  he  and  the 
brave  hearts  of  old  Bulcester,  his  old  friends  and 
brothers  in  arms,  were  once  more  united ;  and  the 
people  stormed  the  platform  and  shook  his  hand  and 
slapped  him  on  the  back.  At  last  we  got  out  by 
a  back  way,  where  our  cab  was  waiting.  Young 
Mr.  Warren  was  as  puzzled  as  myself,  and  his  father 
was  greatly  overcome  and  sobbing  in  a  corner.  We 
got  into  the  house,  where  people  kept  arriving,  and 
at  last  a  fine  old  clerical-looking  bird  entered  with 
a  red  badge  on  one  arm  and  a  very  pretty  girl 
in  white  on  the  other.     She  had  a  red  badge  too. 

'  Young  Mr.  Warren,  who  was  near  me  when  they 
came  in,  gave  a  queer  sort  of  cry,  and  then  I  under- 
stood !  The  girl  was  his  Jane,  and  she  had  been 
vaccinated,  also  her  father,  that  afternoon,  owing 
to  the  awful  panic  the  old  man  got  into  after  reading 
the  evening  papers  about  the  smallpox.  The  gentle- 
man whom  Mr.  Warren  went  to  see  in  the  study,  just 
after  my  arrival,  had  brought  him  this  gratifying 
intelligence,  and  he  had  sent  the  gentleman  back 
to  ask  the  Trumans  to  a  High  Tea  of  reconciliation. 
The  people  at  the  lecture  had  heard  of  this,  and  that 
was  why  they  cheered  so  for  young  Warren,  because 
his  affair  was  as  commonly  known  to  all  Bulcester 
as  that  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  at  Verona.  They  are 
hearty  people  at  Bulcester,  and  not  without  elements 
of  old  English  romance. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   LADY   NOVELIST    193 

'  Old  Mr.  Warren  publicly  embraced  Jane  Truman, 
and  then  brought  her  and  presented  her  to  me  as 
James's  bride.  We  both  cried  a  little,  I  think,  and 
then  we  all  sat  down  to  High  Tea,  and  I  am  scarcely 
yet  the  woman  I  used  to  be.  It  was  a  height !  And 
a  weight !  And  a  length !  After  tea  Mr.  Warren 
made  a  speech,  and  said  that  Bulcester  had  come 
back  to  him,  and  I  was  afraid  that  he  would  brag 
dreadfully,  but  he  did  not;  he  was  too  happy,  I  think. 
And  then  Mr.  Truman  made  a  speech  and  said  that 
though  they  felt  obliged  to  own  that  they  had  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  though  Anti-vaccination  was  a 
holy  thing,  still  (in  the  circumstances)  vaccination 
was  good  enough.  But  they  yet  clung  to  principles 
for  which  Hampden  died  on  the  field,  and  Russell  on 
the  scaffold,  and  many  of  their  own  citizens  in  bed  ! 
There  must  be  no  Coercion.  Everyone  who  liked 
must  be  allowed  to  have  smallpox  as  much  as  he 
pleased.  All  other  issues  were  unimportant  except 
that  of  freedom  ! 

'Here  I  rose  —  I  was  rather  excited  —  and  said 
that  I  hoped  the  reverend  speaker  was  not  deserting 
the  sacred  principle  of  compulsory  temperance? 
Would  the  speaker  allow  people  freedom  to  drink? 
All  other  issues  were  unimportant  compared  with 
that  of  freedom,  except  the  interest  of  depriving  a 
poor  man  of  his  beer.  To  catch  smallpox  was 
a  Briton's  birthright,  but  not  to  take  a  modest 
quencher.  No  freedom  to  drink  !  "  Down  with  the 
drink !  "  I  cried,  and  drained  my  tea-cup,  and  waved 
it,  amidst  ringing  cheers.  Mr.  Truman  admitted 
that  there  were  exceptions  —  one  exception,  at  least. 

13 


194  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Disease  must  be  free  to  all,  not  alcohol  nor  Ritualism. 
He  thanked  his  young  friend  the  gifted  lecturer  for 
recalUng  him  to  his  principles. 

'  The  principles  of  the  good  old  cause,  the  Puritan 
cause,  were  as  pure  as  glycerinated  lymph,  and  he 
proposed  to  found  a  Liberal  Vaccinationist  League. 
They  are  great  people  for  leagues  at  Bulcester,  and 
they  like  the  initials  L.  V.  L.  There  was  no  drinking  of 
toasts,  for  there  was  nothing  to  drink  them  in,  and 
—  do  you  know,  Mr.  Merton?  —  I  think  it  must  be 
nearly  luncheon  time.' 

'Champagne  appears  to  me  to  be  indicated,*  said 
Merton,  who  rang  the  bell  and  then  summoned  Miss 
Blossom  from  her  typewriting. 

*  We  have  done  nothing,'  Merton  said,  '  but  heaven 
only  knows  what  we  have  escaped  in  the  adventure 
of  the  Lady  Novelist  and  the  Vaccinationist' 

On  taking  counsel's  opinion,  Merton  learned,  with 
a  shudder,  that  if  young  Warren  had  used  the  Borgia 
ring,  and  if  Jane  had  resented  it,  he  might  have  been 
indicted  for  a  common  assault,  under  24  and  25 
Victoria,  cap.  100,  sec.  24,  for  '  unlawfully  and  mali- 
ciously administering  a  noxious  thing  with  intent 
to  annoy.' 

'  I  don't  think  she  could  have  proved  the  intent 
to  annoy,'  said  the  learned  counsel. 

'  You  don't  know  a  Bulcester  jury  as  it  was  before 
the  epidemic,'  said  Merton.  '  And  I  might  have  been 
an  accessory  before  the  fact,  and,  anyhow,  we  should 
all  have  got  into  the  newspapers.' 

Miss  Martin  was  the  most  admired  of  the  brides- 
maids at  the  Warren-Truman  marriage. 


X 

ADVENTURE   OF  THE   FAIR  AMERICAN 
/,    The  Prize  of  a  Lady's  Hand 

'"X/ES,  I  guess  that  Pappa  was  reckoned  consider- 
X  able  of  a  crank.  A  great  educational  reformer, 
and  a  progressive  Democratic  stalwart,  that'xs  the  kind 
of  hairpin  Pappa  was !  But  it  is  awkward  for  me, 
some.' 

These  remarks,  though  of  an  obsolete  and  exag- 
gerated transatlantic  idiom,  were  murmured  in  the 
softest  of  tones,  in  the  most  English  of  silken  accents, 
by  the  most  beautiful  of  young  ladies.  She  occupied 
the  client's  chair  in  Merton's  office,  and,  as  she  sat 
there  and  smiled,  Merton  acknowledged  to  himself 
that  he  had  never  met  a  client  so  charming  and  so 
perplexing. 

Miss  McCabe  had  been  educated,  as  Merton  knew, 
at  an  aristocratic  Irish  convent  in  Paris,  a  sanctuary 
of  old  names  and  old  creeds.  This  was  the  plan  of 
her  late  father  (spoken  of  by  her  as  Pappa),  an  edu- 
cational reformer  of  eccentric  ideas,  who,  though  of 
ancient  (indeed  royal)  Irish  descent,  was  of  American 
birth.  The  young  lady  had  thus  acquired  abroad, 
much  against  her  will,  that  kind  of  English  accent 
which  some  of  her  countrywomen  reckon  '  affected,' 


196  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

But  her  intense  patriotism  had  induced  her  to  study, 
in  the  works  of  American  humourists,  and  to  re- 
produce in  her  discourse,  the  flowers  of  speech  of 
which  a  specimen  has  been  presented.  The  national 
accent  was  beyond  her,  but  at  least  she  could  be 
true  to  what  she  (erroneously)  believed  to  be  the 
national  idiom. 

'  Your  case  is  peculiar,'  said  Merton  thoughtfully, 
'  and  scarcely  within  our  province.  As  a  rule  our 
clients  are  the  parents,  guardians,  or  children  of  per- 
sons entangled  in  undesirable  engagements.  But 
you,  I  understand,  are  dissatisfied  with  the  matri- 
monial conditions  imposed  by  the  will  of  the  late  Mr. 
McCabe?' 

'  I  want  to  take  my  own  pick  out  of  the  crowd ' 

said  Miss  McCabe. 

'I  can  readily  understand,'  said  Merton,  bowing, 
'  that  the  throng  of  wooers  is  enormous,'  and  he 
vaguely  thought  of  Penelope. 

'  The  scheme  will  be  popular.  It  will  hit  our 
people  right  where  they  Hve,'  said  Miss  McCabe,  not 
appropriating  the  compHment.  '  You  see  Pappa 
struck  ile  early,  and  struck  it  often.  He  was  what 
our  Howells  calls  a  "  multimillionaire,"  and  I  'm  his 
only  daughter,  Pappa  loved  me,  but  he  loved  the 
people  better.  Guess  Pappa  was  not  mean,  not  worth 
a  cent.     He  was  a  white  man  !  ' 

Miss  McCabe,  with  a  glow  of  lovely  enthusiasm, 
contemplated  the  unprecedented  whiteness  of  the 
paternal  character. 

'  "  What  the  people  want,"  Pappa  used  to  say,  "  is 
education.     They   want  it  short,  and   they  want  it 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE  FAIR  AMERICAN     197 

striking."  That  was  why  he  laid  out  five  millions 
on  his  celebrated  Museum  of  Freaks,  with  a  stafif 
of  competent  professors  and  lecturers.  "  The  McCabe 
Museum  of  Natural  Varieties,  lectures  and  all,  is  open 
gratuitously  to  the  citizens  of  our  Republic,  and  to 
intelligent  foreigners."  That  was  how  Pappa  put  it. 
/  say  that  he  dead-headed  creation  ! ' 

'  Truly  Republican  munificence,'  said  Merton, 
*  worthy   of  your   great   country.' 

'  Well,  I  should  smile,'  said  Miss  McCabe. 

'But  —  excuse  my  insular  ignorance  —  I  do  not 
exactly  understand  how  a  museum  of  freaks,  admir- 
ably organised  as  no  doubt  it  is,  contributes  to  the 
cause  of  popular  education.' 

'  You  have  museums  even  in  London?  '  asked  Miss 
McCabe. 

Merton  assented. 

'  Are  they  not  educational?' 

'  The  British  Museum  is  mainly  used  by  the  chil- 
dren of  the  poor,  as  a  place  where  they  play  a  kind 
of  subdued  hide-and-seek,'  said  Merton. 

*  That 's  because  they  are  not  interested  in  tinned 
Egyptian  corpses  and  broken  Greek  statuary  ware,' 
answered  the  fair  Republican.  '  Now,  Mr.  Merton, 
did  you  ever  see  or  hear  of  a  popular  museum,  a 
museum  that  the  People  would  give  its  cents  to 
see? ' 

'  I  have  heard  of  Mr.  Barnum's  museum,'  said 
Merton. 

'  That 's  the  idea :  it  is  right  there,'  said  Miss 
McCabe.  '  But  old  man  Barnum  was  not  scientific. 
He  saw  what  our  people  wanted,  but  he  did  not  see, 


igS  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

Pappa  said,  how  to  educate  them  through  their 
natural  instincts.  Barnum's  mermaid  was  not  genu- 
ine business.  It  confused  the  popular  mind,  and  fos- 
tered superstition  —  and  got  found  out.  The  result 
was  scepticism,  both  religious  and  scientific.  Now, 
Pappa  used  to  argue,  the  lives  of  our  citizens  are 
monotonous.  They  see  yellow  dogs,  say,  but  each 
yellow  dog  has  only  one  tail.  They  see  men  and 
women,  but  almost  all  of  them  have  only  one  head : 
and  even  a  hand  with  six  fingers  is  not  common. 
This  is  why  the  popular  mind  runs  into  grooves. 
This  causes  what  they  call  "  the  dead  level  of  democ- 
racy." Even  our  men  of  genius,  Pappa  allowed  (for 
he  was  a  very  fair-minded  man),  do  not  go  ahead  of 
the  European  ticket,  but  rather  the  reverse.  Your 
Tennyson  has  the  inner  tracks  of  our  Longfellow :  your 
Thackeray  gives  our  Bertha  Runkle  his  dust.  The 
papers  called  Pappa  unpatriotic,  and  a  bad  American. 
But  he  was  7iot :  he  was  a  white  man.  When  he  saw 
his  country's  faults  he  put  his  finger  on  them,  right 
there,  and  tried  to  cure  them,' 

'  A  noble  policy,'  murmured  Merton. 

Miss  McCabe  was  really  so  pretty  and  unusual, 
that  he  did  not  care  how  long  she  was  in  coming  to 
the  point. 

'  Well,  Pappa  argued  that  there  was  more  genius, 
or  had  been  since  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
even  in  England,  than  in  the  States.  "And  why?" 
he  asked.  "  Why,  because  they  have  more  variety  in 
England.    Things  are  not  all  on  one  level  there "  ' 

'  Our  dogs  have  only  one  tail  apiece,'  said  Merton, 
'  in  spite  of  the  proverb  "  as  protid  as  a  dog  ivith  two 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   FAIR  AMERICAN     199 

tails"  and  a  plurality  of  heads  is  unusual  even  among 
British  subjects.' 

'  Yes,'  answered  Miss  McCabe,  *  but  you  have 
varieties  among  yourselves.  You  have  a  King  and 
a  Queen ;  and  your  peerage  is  rich  in  differentiated 
species.  A  Baronet  is  not  a  Marquis,  nor  is  a  Duke 
an  Earl.' 

'  He  may  be  both,'  said  Merton,  but  Miss  McCabe 
continued  to  expose  the  parental  philosophy. 

'  Now  Pappa  would  not  hear  of  aristocratic  distinc- 
tions in  our  country.  He  was  a  Hail  Columbia  man, 
on  the  Democratic  ticket.  But  something  is  wanted, 
he  said,  to  get  us  out  of  grooves,  and  break  the 
monotony.  That  something,  said  Pappa,  Nature  has 
mercifully  provided  in  Freaks.  The  citizens  feel  this, 
unconsciously :  that 's  why  they  spend  their  money  at 
Barnum's.  But  Barnum  was  not  scientific,  and  Barnum 
was  not  straight  about  his  mermaid.  So  Pappa 
founded  his  Museum  of  Natural  Varieties,  all  of  them 
honest  Injun.  Here  the  lecturers  show  off  the  freaks, 
and  explain  how  Nature  works  them,  and  how  she  can 
always  see  them  and  go  one  better.  We  have  the 
biggest  gold  nugget  and  the  weeniest  cunning  least 
gold  nugget;  the  biggest  diamond  and  the  smallest 
diamond  ;  the  tallest  man  and  the  smallest  man ;  the 
whitest  negro  and  the  yellowest  red  man  in  the  world. 
We  have  the  most  eccentric  beasts,  and  the  queerest 
fishes,  and  everything  is  explained  by  lecturers  of 
world-wide  reputation,  on  the  principles  of  evolution, 
as  copyrighted  by  our  Asa  Gray  and  our  Agassiz. 
That  is  what  Pappa  called  popular  education,  and  it 
hits  our  citizens  right  where  they  live.' 


200  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Miss  McCabe  paused,  in  a  flush  of  filial  and  pa- 
triotic enthusiasm.  Merton  inwardly  thought  that 
among  the  queerest  fishes  the  late  Mr.  McCabe  must 
have  been  pre-eminent.  But  what  he  said  was,  'The 
scheme  is  most  original.  Our  educationists  (to  em- 
ploy a  term  which  they  do  not  disdain),  such  as  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer,  Sir  Joshua  Fitch,  and  others,  have 
thought  out  nothing  hke  this.  Our  capitalists  never 
endow  education  on  this  more  than  imperial  scale.' 

'  Guess  they  are  scaly  varmints  ! '  interposed  Miss 
McCabe. 

Merton  bowed  his  acquiescence  in  the  sentiment. 

'  But,'  he  went  on,  '  I  still  do  not  quite  understand 
how  your  own  prospects  in  life  are  afi'ected  by  Mr. 
McCabe's  most  original  and,  I  hope,  promising 
experiment?  ' 

'  Pappa  loved  me,  but  he  loved  his  country  better, 
and  taught  me  to  adore  her,  and  be  ready  for  any 
sacrifice.'  Miss  McCabe  looked  straight  at  Merton, 
like  an  Iphigenia  blended  with  a  Joan  of  Arc. 

'  I  do  sincerely  trust  that  no  sacrifice  is  necessary,* 
said  Merton.  '  The  circumstances  do  not  call  for  so 
—  unexampled  a  victim.' 

'  I  am  to  be  Lady  Principal  of  the  museum  when  I 
come  to  the  age  of  twenty-five :  that  is,  in  six  years,' 
said  Miss  McCabe  proudly.  '  You  don't  call  that  a 
sacrifice? ' 

Merton  wanted  to  say  that  the  most  magnificent  of 
natural  varieties  would  only  be  in  its  proper  place. 
But  the  vian  of  business  and  the  manager  of  a  great 
and  beneficent  association  overcame  the  mere  ama- 
teur of  beauty,  and  he  only  said  that  the  position  of 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   FAIR  AMERICAN     201 

Lady  Principal  was  worthy  of  the  ambition  of  a  pa- 
triot, and  a  friend  of  the  species. 

'  Well,  I  reckon  !  But  a  clause  in  Pappa's  will  is 
awkward  for  me,  some.  It  is  about  my  marriage,' 
said  Miss  McCabe  bravely. 

Merton  assumed  an  air  of  grave  interest. 

'  Pappa  left  it  in  his  will  that  I  was  to  marry  the 
man  (under  the  age  of  five-and-thirty,  and  of  unim- 
peachable character  and  education)  who  should  dis- 
cover, and  add  to  the  museum,  the  most  original  and 
unheard-of  natural  variety,  whether  found  in  the  Old 
or  the  New  World.' 

Merton  could  scarcely  credit  the  report  of  his  ears. 

'  Would  you  oblige  me  by  repeating  that  statement  ? ' 
he  said,  and  Miss  McCabe  repeated  it  in  identical 
terms,  obviously  quoting  textually  from  the  will. 

'  Now  I  understand  your  unhappy  position,'  said 
Merton,  thoroughly  agreeing  with  the  transatlantic 
critics  who  had  pronounced  the  late  Mr.  McCabe 
'  considerable  of  a  crank.'  '  But  this  is  far  too  serious 
a  matter  for  me — for  our  Association.  I  am  no 
legist,  but  I  am  convinced  that,  at  least  British,  and 
I  doubt  not  American,  law  would  promptly  annul 
a  testatory  clause  so  utterly  unreasonable  and  un- 
precedented.' 

'  Unreasonable  ! '  exclaimed  Miss  McCabe,  rising  to 
her  feet  with  eyes  of  flame,  '  I  am  my  father's  daugh- 
ter, and  his  wish  is  my  law,  whatever  the  laws  that 
men  make  may  say.' 

Her  affectation  of  slang  had  fallen  off;  she  was 
absolutely  natural  now,  and  entirely  in  earnest. 

Merton  rose  also. 


202  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'One  moment,'  he  said.  '  It  would  be  impertinence 
in  me  to  express  my  admiration  of  you  —  of  what  you 
say.  As  the  question  is  not  a  legal  one  (in  such  I  am 
no  fit  adviser)  I  shall  think  myself  honoured  if  you 
will  permit  me  to  be  of  any  service  in  the  circum- 
stances. They  are  less  unprecedented  than  I  hastily 
supposed.  History  records  many  examples  of  fathers, 
even  of  royal  rank,  who  have  attached  similar  condi- 
tions to  the  disposal  of  their  daughters'  hands.' 

Merton  was  thinking  of  the  kings  in  the  treatises 
of  Monsieur  Charles  Perrault,  Madame  d'Aulnoy,  and 
other  historians  of  Fairyland;  of  monarchs  who  give 
their  daughters  to  the  bold  adventurers  that  bring  the 
smallest  dog,  or  the  singing  rose,  or  the  horse  magical. 

'  What  you  really  want,  I  think,'  he  went  on,  as 
Miss  McCabe  resumed  her  seat,  '  is  to  have  your 
choice,  as  you  said,  among  the  competitors?' 

'  Yes,'  repHed  the  fair  American,  '  that  is  only 
natural.' 

'  But  then,'  said  Merton,  '  much  depends  on  who 
decides  as  to  the  merits  of  the  competitors.  With 
whom  does  the  decision  rest?' 

'  With  the  people.' 

*  With  the  people?' 

'  Yes,  with  the  popular  vote,  as  expressed  through 
the  newspaper  that  my  father  founded  —  The  Yellow 
Flag.  The  public  is  to  see  the  exhibits,  the  new  vari- 
eties of  nature,  and  the  majority  of  votes  is  to  carry 
the  day.  "Trust  the  people!"  that  was  Pappa's 
word.' 

'  Then  anyone  who  chooses,  of  the  age,  character, 
and  education  stipulated  under  the  clause  in  the  will, 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     203 

may  go  and  bring  in  whatever  variety  of  nature  he 
pleases  and  take  his  chance?' 

'That  is  it  all  the  time,'  said  the  client.  'There  is 
a  trust,  and  the  trustees,  friends  of  Pappa's,  decide  on 
the  qualifications  of  the  young  men  who  enter  for  the 
competition.  If  the  trustees  are  satisfied  they  allot 
money  for  expenses  out  of  the  exploration  fund,  so 
that   nobody  may   be  stopped  because  he  is  poor.' 

'  There  will  be  an  enormous  throng  of  competitors 
in  these  conditions  —  and  with  such  a  prize,'  Merton 
could  not  help  adding. 

'  I  reckon  the  trustees  are  middling  particular. 
They  '11  weed  them  out.' 

'  Is  there  any  restriction  on  the  nationality  of  the 
competitors?' asked  Merton,  on  whom  an  idea  was 
dawning. 

'  Only  members  of  the  English  speaking  races  need 
apply,'  said  Miss  McCabe.  *  Pappa  took  no  stock  in 
Spaniards  or  Turks.' 

'  The  voters  will  be  prejudiced  in  favour  of  their 
own  fellow  citizens?'  asked  Merton.  'That  is  only 
natural.' 

'  Trust  the  people,'  said  Miss  McCabe.  '  The  whole 
thing  is  to  be  kept  as  dark  as  a  blind  coloured  per- 
son hunting  in  a  dark  cellar  for  a  black  cat  that  is  not 
there.' 

'  A  truly  Miltonic  illustration,'  said  Merton. 

'  The  advertisement  for  competitors  will  be  care- 
fully worded,  so  as  to  attract  only  young  men  of 
science.  The  young  men  are  not  to  be  told  about 
me :  the  prize  is  in  dollars,  "with  other  advantages 
to  be  later  specified."     The  varieties  found  are  to  be 


204  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

conveyed  to  a  port  abroad,  not  yet  named,  and 
shipped  for  New  York  in  a  steamer  belonging  to 
the  McCabe  Trust.' 

*  Then  am  I  to  understand  that  the  conditions 
affecting  your  marriage  are  still  an  entire  secret?' 

'  That  is  so,'  said  Miss  McCabe,  '  and  I  guess  from 
what  the  marchioness  told  me,  your  reference,  that 
you  can  keep  a  secret.' 

*  To  keep  secrets  is  the  very  essential  of  my  voca- 
tion,' said  Merton. 

But  this  secret,  as  will  be  seen,  he  did  not  abso- 
lutely keep. 

'The  arrangements,'  he  added, '  are  most  judicious.' 

'  Guess  Pappa  was  'cute,'  said  Miss  McCabe,  re- 
lapsing into  her  adopted  mannerisms. 

'  I  think  I  now  understand  the  case  in  all  its  bear- 
ings,' Merton  went  on.  '  I  shall  give  it  my  serious 
consideration.  Perhaps  I  had  better  say  no  more  at 
present,  but  think  over  the  matter.  You  remain  in 
town  for  the  season  ?  ' 

*  Guess  we  've  staked  out  a  claim  in  Berkeley 
Square,'  said  Miss  McCabe,  '  an  agreeable  location.' 
She  mentioned  the  number  of  the  house. 

'  Then  we  are  likely  to  meet  now  and  then,'  said 
Merton,  '  and  I  trust  that  I  may  be  permitted  to  wait 
on  you  occasionally.' 

Miss  McCabe  graciously  assented ;  her  chaperon, 
Lady  Rathcoffey,  was  summoned  by  her  from  the 
inner  chamber  and  the  society  of  Miss  Blossom,  the 
typewriter ;  the  pair  drove  away,  and  Merton  was  left 
to  his  own  reflections. 

'  I  do  not  know  what  can  be    done   for   her,'  he 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     205 

thought,  '  except  to  see  that  there  is  at  least  one 
ehgible  man,  a  gentleman,  among  the  crowd  of  com- 
petitors, and  that  he  is  a  likely  man  to  win  the  beau- 
tiful prize.  And  that  man  is  Bude,  by  Jove,  if  he 
wants  to  win  it.' 

The  Earl  of  Bude,  whose  name  at  once  occurred  to 
Merton,  was  a  remarkable  personage.  The  world 
knew  him  as  rich,  handsome,  happy,  and  a  mighty 
hunter  of  big  game.  They  knew  not  the  mysterious 
grief  that  for  years  had  gnawed  at  his  heart.  Why 
did  not  Bude  marry?  No  woman  could  say.  The 
world,  moreover,  knew  not,  but  Merton  did,  that  Lord 
Bude  was  the  mysterious  Mr.  Jones  Harvey,  who  con- 
tributed the  most  original  papers  to  the  Proceedings 
of  the  Geographical  and  Zoological  Societies,  and 
who  had  conferred  many  strange  beasts  on  the  Gar- 
dens of  the  latter  learned  institution.  The  erudite 
papers  were  read,  the  eccentric  animals  were  con- 
ferred, in  the  name  of  Mr.  Jones  Harvey.  They 
came  from  outlandish  addresses  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  but,  in  the  flesh,  Jones  Harvey  had  been  seen 
by  no  man,  and  his  secret  had  been  confided  to  Mer- 
ton only,  to  Logan,  and  two  other  school  friends. 
He  did  good  to  science  by  stealth,  and  blushed  at 
the  idea  of  being  a  F.R.S.  There  was  no  show  of 
science  about  Bude,  and  nothing  exotic,  except  the 
singular  circumstance  that,  however  he  happened  to 
be  dressed,  he  always  wore  a  ring,  or  pin,  or  sleeve 
links  set  with  very  ugly  and  muddy  looking  pearls. 
From  these  ornaments  Lord  Bude  was  inseparable; 
to  chaff  about  presents  from  dusky  princesses  on  un- 
discovered shores  he  was  impervious.     Even  Merton 


3o6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

did  not  know  the  cause  of  his  attachment  to  these 
ungainly  jewels,  or  the  dark  memory  of  mysterious 
loss  with  which  they  were  associated. 

Merton's  first  care  was  to  visit  the  divine  Althaea, 
Mrs.  Brown-Smith,  and  other  ladies  of  his  acquaint- 
ance. Their  cards  were  deposited  at  the  claim 
staked  out  by  Miss  McCabe  in  Berkeley  Square,  and 
that  young  lady  soon  '  went  everywhere,'  and  pub- 
licly confessed  that  she  '  was  having  a  real  lovely 
time.'  By  a  little  diplomacy  Lord  Bude  was  brought 
acquainted  with  Miss  McCabe.  She  consented  to 
overlook  his  possession  of  a  coronet;  titles  were,  to 
this  heroine,  not  marvels  (as  to  some  of  her  country- 
women and  ours),  but  rather  matters  of  indifference, 
scarcely  even  suggesting  hostile  prejudice.  The  ob- 
servers in  society,  mothers  and  maids,  and  the  chron- 
iclers of  fashion,  soon  perceived  that  there  was  at 
least  a  marked  camaraderie  between  the  elegant  aris- 
tocrat, hitherto  indifferent  to  woman,  untouched,  as 
was  deemed,  by  love,  and  the  lovely  Child  of  Free- 
dom. Miss  McCabe  sat  by  him  while  he  drove  his 
coach ;  on  the  roof  of  his  drag  at  Lord's  ;  and  of  his 
houseboat  at  Henley,  where  she  fainted  when  the 
crew  of  Johns  Hopkins  University,  U.  S.,  was  defeated 
by  a  length  by  Balliol  (where  Lord  Bude  had  been 
the  favourite  pupil  of  the  great  Master).  Merton 
remarked  these  tokens  of  friendship  with  approval. 
If  Bude  could  be  induced  to  enter  for  the  great  com- 
petition, and  if  he  proved  successful,  there  seemed  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  Miss  McCabe  would  be  dissat- 
isfied with  the  People's  choice. 

Towards   the   end   of  the   season,  and    in   Bude's 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     207 

smoking-room,  about  five  in  the  July  morning  after 
a  ball  at  Eglintoun  House,  Merton  opened  his  ap- 
proaches. He  began,  cautiously,  from  talk  of  moors 
and  forests ;  he  touched  on  lochs,  he  mentioned  the 
Highland  traditions  of  water  bulls  (which  haunt  these 
meres)  ;  he  spoke  of  the  Beathach  vior  Loch  Odha,  a 
legendary  animal  of  immeasurable  length.  The  Bea- 
thach  has  twelve  feet;  he  has  often  been  heard  crash- 
ing through  the  ice  in  the  nights  of  winter.  These 
tales  the  narrator  has  gleaned  from  the  lips  of  the 
Celtic  peasantry  of  Letter  Awe. 

'  I  daresay  he  does  break  the  ice,'  said  Bude.  '  In 
the  matter  of  cryptic  survivals  of  extinct  species  I 
can  believe  a  good  deal.' 

'The  sea  serpent?'  asked  Merton. 

'  Seen  him  thrice,'  said  Bude. 

'  Then  why  did  not  Jones  Harvey  weigh  in  with  a 
letter  to  Nature  ? ' 

'  Jones  Harvey  has  a  scientific  reputation  to  look 
after,  and  knows  he  would  be  laughed  at.  That 's 
the  kind  of  hairpin  /le  is,'  said  Bude,  quoting  Miss 

McCabe.     '  By  Jove,  Merton,  that  girl '  and  he 

paused. 

'  Yes,  she  is  pretty,'  said  Merton. 

'  Pretty  !  I  have  seen  the  women  of  the  round 
world  —  before  I  went  to  —  well,  never  mind  where, 
I  used  to  think  the  Poles  the  most  magnificent,  but 
s/ie ' 

'  Whips  creation,  'said  Merton.  *  But  I,'  he  went  on, 
'  am  rather  more  interested  in  these  other  extraordi- 
nary animals.  Do  you  seriously  believe,  with  your  ex- 
perience, that  some  extinct  species  are  —  not  extinct?' 


2o8  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  To  be  sure  I  do.  The  world  is  wide.  But  they 
are  very  shy.  I  once  stalked  a  Bunyip,  in  Central 
Australia,  in  a  lagoon.  The  natives  said  he  was 
there :  I  watched  for  a  week,  squatting  in  the  reeds, 
and  in  the  grey  of  the  seventh  dawn  I  saw  him.' 

'  Did  you  shoot?  ' 

'  No,  I  observed  him  through  a  field  glass  first.' 

'  What  is  the  beggar  like?  ' 

'  Much  like  some  of  the  Highland  water  cattle, 
as  described,  but  it  is  his  ears  they  take  for  horns. 
Australia  has  no  indigenous  horned  animal.  He 
is,  I  should  say,  about  nine  feet  long,  marsupial 
(he  rose  breast  high),  and  web-footed.  I  saw  that 
when  he  dived.  Other  white  men  have  seen  him  — 
Buckley,  the  convict,  for  one,  when  he  lived  among 
the  blacks,' 

'  Buckley  was  not  an  accurate  observer.' 

'  Jones  Harvey  is.' 

'  Any  other  queer  beasts?  ' 

'  Of  course,  plenty.  You  have  heard  of  the  Mylo- 
don,  the  gigantic  Sloth?  His  bones,  skin,  and  hair 
were  lately  found  in  a  cave  in  Patagonia,  with  a  lot 
of  his  fodder.  You  can  see  them  at  the  British 
Museum  in  South  Kensington.  Primitive  Patagonian 
man  used  the  female  of  the  species  as  a  milch-cow. 
He  was  a  genial  friendly  kind  of  brute,  accessible 
to  charm  of  manner  and  chopped  hay.  They  fed  him 
on  that,  in  a  domesticated  state.' 

'  But  he  is  extinct.  Hesketh  Pritchard  went  to 
look  for  a  live   Mylodon,  and  did   not  find  him/ 

'  Did  not  know  where  to  look,'  said  Bude. 

'But  you  do?'  asked    Merton- 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     209 

'  Yes,  I  think  so.' 

'  Then  why  don't  you  bring  one  over  to  the 
Zoo?' 

'  I  may  some  day.' 

'Are  there  any  more  survivors  of  extinct  species?  ' 

'  Merton,  is  this  an  interview?  Are  you  doing  Mr. 
Jones  Harvey  at  home  for  a  picture  paper? ' 

'  No,  I  've  dropped  the  Press,'  said  Merton,  '  I  ask 
in  a  spirit  of  scientific  curiosity.' 

'  Well,  there  is  the  Dinornis,  the  Moa  of  New 
Zealand.  A  bird  as  big  as  the  Roc  in  the  "  Arabian 
Nights."  ' 

'  Have  you  seen  him  ? ' 

'  No,  but  I  have  seen  h^r,  the  hen  bird.  She  was 
sitting  on  eggs.  No  man  knows  her  nest  but  myself, 
and  oldTe-iki-pa,  the  chiefmedicine-man,or  Tohunga, 
of  the  Maori  King.  The  Moa's  eyrie  is  in  the  King's 
country.  It  is  a  difficult  country,  and  a  dangerous 
business,  if  the  cock  Moa  chances  to  come  home.' 

'  Bude,  is  this  worthy  of  an  old  friend,  this 
blague  ? ' 

'  Do  you  doubt  my  word  ?  ' 

'  If  you  give  me  your  word  I  must  believe  —  that 
you  dreamed  it.' 

The7i  a  strange  thing  happened. 

Bude  walked  to  a  small  case  of  instruments  that 
stood  on  a  table  in  the  smoking-room.  He  unlocked 
it,  took  out  a  lancet,  brought  a  Rhodian  bowl  from  a 
shelf,  and  bared  his  arm. 

'  Do  you  want  proof  ?  ' 

'Proof  that  you  saw  a  hen  Moa  sitting?'  asked 
Merton  in  amazement. 

14 


2IO  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

'  Not  exactly,  but  proof  that  Te-iki-pa  knew  a  thing 
or  two,  quite  as  out  of  the  way  as  the  habitat  of  the 
Moa.' 

'  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  ' 

'  Bare  your  arm,  and  hold  it  over  the  bowl.' 

The  room  was  full  of  the  yellow  dusky  light  of  an 
early  summer  morning  in  London.  Outside  the 
heavy  carts  were  rolling  by:  in  full  civilisation  the 
scene  was  strange. 

'The  Blood  Covenant?'  asked  Merton. 

Bude  nodded. 

Merton  turned  up  his  cuff,  Bude  let  a  little  blood 
drop  into  the  bowl,  then  performed  the  same  operation 
on  his  own  arm. 

'  This  is  all  rot,'  he  said,  '  but  without  this  I  cannot 
show  you,  by  virtue  of  my  oath  to  Te-iki-pa,  what  I 
mean  to  show  you.  Now  repeat  after  me  what  I  am 
going  to  say.' 

He  spoke  a  string  of  words,  among  which  Merton, 
as  he  repeated  them,  could  only  recognise  mana  and 
atua.     The  vowel  sounds  were  as  in  Italian, 

'Now  these  words  you  must  never  report  to  any 
one,  without  my  permission.' 

'  Not  likely,'  said  Merton,  *  I  only  remember  two  of 
them,  and  these  I  knew  before.' 

'  All  right,'  said  Bude. 

He  then  veiled  his  face  in  a  piece  of  silk  that  lay  on 
a  sofa,  and  rapidly,  in  a  low  voice,  chanted  a  kind  of 
hymn  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  Merton.  All  this  he 
did  with  a  bored  air,  as  if  he  thought  the  performance 
a  superfluous  mummery. 

'Now  what  shall  I  show  you?     Something  simple. 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     211 

Look  at  the  book-case,  and  think  of  any  book  you 
may  want  to  consult.' 

Merton  thought  of  the  volume  in  M.  of  the 
Encyclopcedia  Britannica.  The  volume  slowly  slid 
from  the  shelf,  glided  through  the  air  to  Merton,  and 
gently  subsided  on  the  table  near  him,  open  at  the 
word  Moa. 

Merton  walked  across  to  the  book-case,  took  all 
the  volumes  from  the  shelf,  and  carefully  examined 
the  backs  and  sides  for  springs  and  mechanical 
advantages.     There  were   none. 

'  Not  half  bad  !  '  he  said,  when  he  had  completed 
his  investigation. 

'You  are  satisfied  that  Te-iki-pa  knew  something? 
If    you    had    seen    what    I    have    seen,    if   you    had 

seen  the  three  days  dead 'and  Bude  shivered 

slightly. 

'  I  have  seen  enough.  Do  you  know  how  it  is 
done? ' 

'No.' 

'Well,  a  miracle  is  not  what  you  call  logical  proof, 
but  I  believe  that  you  did  see  the  Moa,  and  a  still 
more  extraordinary  bird,  Te-iki-pa.' 

'Yes,  they  talk  of  strange  beasts,  but  "nothing  is 
stranger  than  man."  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the 
Berbalangs  of  Cagayan  Sulu?' 

'  Never  in  my  life,'  said  Merton. 

'  Heaven  preserve  me  from  them,'  said  Bude,  and  he 
gently  stroked  the  strange  muddy  pearls  in  the  sleeve- 
links  on  his  loose  shirt-cuff.  '  Angels  and  ministers 
of  grace  defend  us,'  he  exclaimed,  crossing  himself 
(he  was  of  the  old  faith),  and  he  fell  silent. 


212  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

It  was  a  moment  of  emotion.  Six  silvery  strokes 
were  sounded  from  a  little  clock  on  the  chimney- 
piece.     The  hour  of  confidences  had  struck. 

'  Bude,  you  are  serious  about  Miss  McCabe?' 
asked  Merton. 

'  I  mean  to  put  it  to  the  touch  at  Goodwood.' 

'No  use  ! '  said  Merton. 

Bude  changed  colour. 

'  Are  yoii ?  ' 

*  No,'  interrupted  Merton.     '  But  she  is  not  free.' 
'There  is  somebody  in  America?     Nobody  here,  I 

think.' 

'  It  is  hardly  that,'  said  Merton.  '  Can  you  listen 
to  rather  a  long  story?  I  '11  cut  it  as  much  as  possi- 
ble. You  must  remember  that  I  am  practically 
breaking  my  word  of  honour  in  telling  you  this. 
My  honour  is  in  your  hands.' 

*  Fire  away,'  said  Bude,  pouring  a  bottle  of 
Apollinaris  water  into  a  long  tumbler,  and  drinking 
deep. 

Merton  told  the  tale  of  Miss  McCabe's  extraor- 
dinary involvement,  and  of  the  wild  conditions  on 
which  her  hand  was  to  be  won.  '  And  as  to  her 
heart,  I  think,'  he  added,  '  if  you  pull  off  the 
prize  — 

If  my  heart  by  signs  can  tell, 
Lordling,  I  have  marked  her  daily, 
And  I  think  she  loves  thee  well.' 

'  Thank  you  for  that,  old  cock,'  repHed  the  peer, 
shaking  Merton's  hand.  He  had  recovered  from  his 
emotion. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAx\     213 

'  I  'm  on,'  he  added,  after  a  moment's  silence, '  but  I 
shall  enter  as  Jones  Harvey.' 

'  His  name  and  his  celebrated  papers  will  impress 
the  trustees,'  said  Merton  '  Now  what  variety  of 
nature  shall  you  go  for?  Wild  men  count.  Shall 
you  fetch  a  Berbalang  of  what  do  you   call  it?' 

Bude  shuddered.  '  Not  much,'  he  said.  '  I  think  I 
shall  fetch  a  Moa.' 

'  But  no  steamer  could  hold  that  gigantic  denizen 
of  the  forests.' 

'  You  leave  that  to  Jones  Harvey.  Jones  is  'cute, 
some,'  he  said,  reminiscent  of  the  adored  one,  and  he 
fell  into  a  lover's  reverie. 

He  was  aroused  by  Merton's  departure :  he  fin- 
ished the  ApoUinaris  water,  took  a  bath,  and  went  to 
bed. 

//.    TJie  Adventure  of  the  Muddy  Pearls 

The  Earl  of  Bude  had  meant  to  lay  his  heart,  cor- 
onet, and  other  possessions,  real  and  personal,  before 
the  tiny  feet  of  the  fair  American  at  Goodwood.  But 
when  he  learned  from  Merton  the  involvements  of 
this  heiress  and  paragon,  that  her  hand  depended 
on  the  choice  of  the  people,  that  the  choice  of  the 
people  was  to  settle  on  the  adventurer  who  brought 
to  New  York  the  rarest  of  nature's  varieties,  the 
earl  honourably  held  his  peace.  Yet  he  and  the  ob- 
ject of  his  love  were  constantly  meeting,  on  the 
yachts  and  in  the  country  houses  of  their  friends, 
the  aristocracy,  and,  finally,  at  shooting  lodges  in  the 
Highlands.     Their   position,  as  the   Latin   Delectus 


214  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

says  concerning  the  passion  of  love  in  general,  was 
'  a  strange  thing,  and  full  of  anxious  fears.'  Bude 
could  not  declare  himself,  and  Miss  McCabe,  not 
knowing  that  he  knew  her  situation,  was  constantly- 
wondering  why  he  did  not  speak.  Between  fear  of 
letting  her  secret  show  itself  in  a  glance  or  a  blush 
and  hope  of  listening  to  the  words  which  she  desired 
to  hear,  even  though  she  could  not  answer  them  as 
her  heart  prompted,  she  was  unhappy.  Bude  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  be  with  her — indeed  he 
argued  to  himself  that,  as  her  suitor  and  an  adven- 
turer about  to  risk  himself  in  her  cause,  he  had  a 
right  to  be  near  her.  Meanwhile  Merton  was  the 
confidant  of  both  of  the  perplexed  lovers ;  at  least 
Miss  McCabe  (who,  of  course,  told  him  nothing  about 
Bude)  kept  him  apprised  as  to  the  conduct  of  her 
trustees. 

They  had  acted  with  honourable  caution  and  cir- 
cumspection. Their  advertisements  guardedly  ap- 
pealed to  men  of  daring  and  of  scientific  distinction 
under  the  age  of  thirty-five.  A  professorship  might 
have  been  in  view  for  all  that  the  world  could  see,  if 
the  world  read  the  advertisements.  Perhaps  it  was 
something  connected  with  the  manufacture  of  original 
explosives,  for  daring  is  not  usually  required  in  the 
learned.  The  testimonials  and  printed  works  of 
applicants  were  jealously  scrutinised.  At  personal 
interviews  with  competitors  similar  caution  was  ob- 
served. During  three  weeks  in  August  the  papers 
announced  that  Lord  Bude  was  visiting  the  States; 
arrangements  about  a  yachting  match  in  the  future 
were  his  pretence.    He  returned,  he  came  to  Scotland, 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     215 

and  it  was  in  a  woodland  path  beside  the  Lochy  that 
his  resolution  failed,  and  that  he  spoke  to  Miss  Mc- 
Cabe.  They  were  walking  home  together  from  the 
river  in  the  melancholy  and  beautiful  close  of  a  High- 
land day  in  September.  Behind  them  the  giUies,  at 
a  respectful  distance,  were  carrying  the  rods  and  the 
fish.  The  wet  woods  were  fragrant,  the  voice  of  the 
stream  was  deepening,  strange  lights  came  and  went 
on  moor  and  hills  and  the  distant  loch.  It  was 
then  that  Bude  opened  his  heart.  He  first  candidly 
explained  that  his  heart,  he  had  supposed,  was  dead 
—  buried  on  a  distant  and  a  deadly  shore. 

'  I  reckon  there  's  a  lost  Lenore  most  times,'  Miss 
McCabe  had  replied  to  this  confession. 

But,  though  never  to  be  forgotten,  the  memory  of 
the  lost  one,  Bude  averred,  was  now  merged  in  the 
light  of  a  living  love;  his  heart  was  no  longer  ten- 
anted only  by  a  shadow. 

The  heart  of  Miss  McCabe  stood  still  for  a  moment, 
her  cheek  paled,  but  the  gallant  girl  was  true  to  her- 
self, to  her  father's  wish,  to  her  native  land,  to  the 
flag.     She  understood  her  adorer. 

'  Guess  I'm  bespoke,'  said  Miss  McCabe  abruptly. 

'  You  are  another's  !  Oh,  despair  !  '  exclaimed  the 
impassioned  earl. 

'  Yes,  I  reckon  I  'm  the  Bride  of  Seven,  like  the 
girl  in  the  poem.' 

'  The  Bride  of  Seven?  '  said  Bude, 

'  One  out  of  t/ial  crowd  will  call  me  his,'  said  Miss 
McCabe,  handing  to  her  adorer  the  list,  which  she 
had  received  by  mail  a  day  or  two  earher,  of  the 
accepted  competitors.     He  glanced  over  the  names. 


2i6  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

1.  Dr.    Hiram    P.    Dodge,    of  the    Smithsonian 

Institute. 

2.  Alfred   Jenkins,   F.R.S.,  All    Souls    College, 

Oxford. 

3.  Dr.  James  Rustler,  Columbia  University. 

4.  Howard  Fry,   M.A.,  Ph.D.,  Trinity  College, 

Cambridge. 

5.  Professor    Potter,    F.R.S.,   University   of  St. 

Andrews. 

6.  Professor  Wilkinson,  University  of  Harvard. 

7.  Jones  Harvey,  F.G.S.,  London,  England. 

'  In  Heaven's  name,'  asked  the  earl,  '  what  means 
this  mystification?  Miss  McCabe,  Melissa,  do  not 
trifle  with  me.  Is  this  part  of  the  great  American 
Joke?  You  are  playing  it  pretty  low  down  on  me, 
Melissa!  '  he  ended,  the  phrase  being  one  of  those 
with  which  she  had  made  him  familiar. 

She  laughed  hysterically :  '  It 's  honest  Injun,'  she 
said,  and  in  the  briefest  terms  she  told  him  (what  he 
knew  very  well)  the  conditions  on  which  her  future 
depended. 

'They  are  a  respectable  crowd,  I  don't  deny  it,' 
she  went  on,  '  but,  oh,  how  dull !  That  Mr.  Jenkins, 
I  saw  him  at  your  Commemoration.  He  gave  us 
luncheon,  and  showed  us  dry  old  bones  of  beasts 
and  savage  notions  at  the  Museum.  I  druther  have 
been  on  the  creek,'  by  which  name  she  intended  the 
classical  river  Isis. 

'  Dr.  Hiram  P.  Dodge  is  one  of  our  rising  scientists, 
a  boss  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute.  Well,  Washing- 
ton is  a  finer  location  than  Oxford  !  Dr.  Rustler  is  a 
crank ;  he  thinks  he  can  find  a  tall  talk  mummy  that 
speaks  an  unknown  tongue.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    FAIR   AMERICAN     217 

'A  Toltec  mummy?  Ah/  said  Bude,  'I  know 
where  to  find   one  of  them' 

'  Find  it  then,  Alured  !  '  exclaimed  Miss  McCabe, 
blushing  scarlet  and  turning  aside.  '  But  you  are  not 
on  the  list.  You  are  an  idler,  and  not  scientific,  not 
worth  a  red  cent.  There,  I  've  given  myself  away ! ' 
She  wept. 

They  were  alone,  beneath  the  walls  of  a  crumbling 
fortalice  of  Lochiel.  The  new  risen  moon  saw  Bude 
embrace  her  and  dry  her  tears.  A  nameless  blissful 
hope  awakened  in  the  fair  American ;  help  there  tnust 
be,  she  thought,  with  these  strong  arms  around  her. 

She  rapidly  disposed  of  the  remaining  names :  of 
Howard  Fry,  who  had  a  red  beard ;  of  Professor 
Potter  of  St.  Andrews,  whose  accent  was  Caledonian ; 
of  Wilkinson,  an  ardent  but  unalluring  scientist.  '  As 
for  Jones  Harvey,'  she  said,  '  I  've  canvassed  every- 
where, and  I  can't  find  anybody  that  ever  saw  him. 
I  am  more  afraid  of  him  than  of  all  the  other  galoots; 
I  don't  know  why,' 

'  He  is  reckoned  very  learned,'  said  Bude, '  and  has 
not  been  thought  ill-looking.' 

'  Do  tell !  '  said  Miss  McCabe. 

'  Oh,  Melissa,  can  you  even  dream  of  another  in  an 
hour  like  this? ' 

'  Did  you  ever  see  Jones  Harvey?  ' 

'  Yes,  I  have  met  him.' 

'  Do  you  know  him  well?  ' 

'  No  man  knows  him  better.' 

*  Can't  you  get  him  to  stand  out,  and,  Alured,  can't 
you  —  fetch  along  that  old  tall  talk  mummy?  He 
would  hit  our  people,  being  American  himself.' 


2i8  THE   DISENT ANGLERS 

'  It  is  impossible.  Jones  Harvey  will  never  stand 
out,'  and  Bude  smiled. 

By  the  telepathy  of  the  afifections  Miss  McCabe  was 
slowly  informed,  especially  as  Bude's  smile  widened 
almost  unbecomingly,  while  he  gazed  into  the  deeps 
of  her  golden  eyes. 

'Alured,'  she  exclaimed,  'that's  why  you  went  to 
the  States.      You  —  are  —  Jones  Harvey  !  ' 

'  Secret  for  secret,'  whispered  the  earl.  '  We  have 
both  given  ourselves  away.  Unknown  to  the  world  I 
am  Jones  Harvey ;  to  live  for  you :  to  love  you :  to 
dare  ;  if  need  be,  to  die  for  you.' 

'  Well,  you  surprise  me  !  '  said  Miss  McCabe. 

The  narrator  is  unwilling  to  dilate  on  the  delights 
of  a  privileged  affection.  In  this  love  affair  neither  of 
the  lovers  could  feel  absolutely  certain  that  their 
affection  was  privileged.  The  fair  American  had  her 
own  secret  scheme  if  her  hopes  were  blighted.  She 
could  not  then  obey  the  paternal  will:  she  would  re- 
tire into  the  life  religious,  and,  as  Sister  Anna,  would 
strive  to  forget  the  sorrows  of  Melissa  McCabe. 
Bude  had  his  own  hours  of  gloom. 

'  It  is  a  six-to-one  chance,'  he  said  to  Merton  when 
they  met. 

'  Better  than  that,  I  think,'  said  Merton.  '  First, 
you  know  exactly  what  you  are  entered  for.  Do  the 
others?  When  you  saw  the  trustees  in  the  States,  did 
they  tell  you  about  the  prize? ' 

'  Not  they.  They  spoke  of  a  pecuniary  reward 
which  would  be  eminently  satisfactory,  and  of  the 
opportunity  for  research  and  distinction,  and  all  ex- 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     219 

penses  found.     I  said  that  I  preferred  to  pay  my  own 
way,  which  surprised  and  pleased  them  a  good  deal.' 
'  Well,  then,  knowing  the  facts,  and  the  lady,  you 
have   a  far  stronger  motive  than  the   other  six.* 

*  That 's  true,'  said  Bude. 

'Again,  though  the  others  are  good  men  (not  that 
I  like  Jenkins  of  All  Souls),  none  of  them  has  your 
experience  and  knowledge.  Jones  Harvey's  testi- 
monials would  carry  it  if  it  were  a  question  of  elec- 
tion to  a  professorship.' 

'  You  flatter  me,'  answered  Bude. 

*  Lastly,  did  the  trustees  ask  you  if  you  were  a  mar- 
ried man  f ' 

'  No,  by  Jove,  they  did  n't.' 

'  Well,  nothing  about  the  competitors  being  un- 
married men  occurs  in  the  clause  of  McCabe's  last 
will  and  testament.  He  took  it  for  granted,  the  prize 
being  what  it  is,  that  only  bachelors  were  eligible. 
But  he  forgot  to  say  so,  in  so  many  words,  and  the 
trustees  did  not  go  beyond  the  deed.  Now,  Dodge 
is  married;  Fry  of  Trinity  is  a  married  don;  Rustler 
(I  happen  to  know)  is  an  engaged  man,  who  can't 
afford  to  marry  a  charming  girl  in  Detroit,  Michigan ; 
and  Professor  Potter  has  buried  one  wife,  and  wedded 
another.  If  Rustler  is  loyal  to  his  plighted  word,  you 
have  nobody  against  you  but  Wilkinson  and  old  Jen- 
kins of  All  Souls  —  a  tough  customer,  I  admit,  though 
what  a  Stinks  man  like  him  has  to  do  at  All  Souls  I 
don't  know.' 

'  I  say,  this  is  hard  on  the  other  sportsmen  !  What 
ought  I  to  do?     Should  I  tell  them?  ' 

*  You  can't :  you  have  no  official  knowledge  of  their 


220  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

existence.  You  only  know  through  Miss  McCabe. 
You  have  just  to  sit  tight.' 

'  It  seems  beastly  unsportsmanlike,'  said  Bude. 

'  Wills  are  often  most  carelessly  drafted,'  answered 
Merton,  '  and  the  usual  consequences  follow.' 

'  It  is  not  cricket,'  said  Bude,  and  really  he  seemed 
much  more  depressed  than  elated  by  the  reduction 
of  the   odds  against  him  from  6  to  i  to  2  to  i. 

This  is  the  magnificent  type  of  character  produced 
by  our  British  system  of  athletic  sports,  though  it  is 
not  to  be  doubted  that  the  spirit  of  Science,  in  the 
American  gentlemen,  would  have  been  equally  pro- 
ductive of  the  sense  of  fair  play. 

A  year,  by  the  terms  of  McCabe's  will,  was  allotted 
to  the  quest.  Candidates  were  to  keep  the  trustees 
informed  as  to  their  whereabouts.  Six  weeks  before 
the  end  of  the  period  the  competitors  would  be  in- 
structed as  to  the  port  of  rendezvous,  where  an  ocean 
liner,  chartered  by  the  trustees,  was  to  await  them. 
Bude,  as  Jones  Harvey,  had  obtained  leave  to  sail  his 
own  steam  yacht  of  8oo  tons. 

The  earl's  preparations  were  simple.  He  carried 
his  usual  stock  of  scientific  implements,  his  usual 
armament,  including  two  Maxim  guns,  and  a  package 
of  considerable  size  and  weight,  which  was  stored  in 
the  hold.  As  to  the  preparations  of  the  others  he 
knew  nothing,  but  Miss  McCabe  became  aware  that 
Rustler  had  not  left  the  American  continent.  Con- 
cerning Jenkins,  and  the  probable  aim  of  his  enter- 
prise, the  object  of  his  quest,  she  gleaned  information 
from  a  junior  Fellow  of  All  Souls,  who  was  her  slave, 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR    AMERICAN     221 

was  indiscreet,  and  did  not  know  how  deeply  con- 
cerned she  was  in  the  expeditions.  But  she  never 
whispered  a  word  of  what  she  knew  to  her  lover,  not 
even  in  the  hour  of  parting. 

It  was  in  an  unnamed  creek  of  the  New  Zealand 
coast,  six  weeks  before  the  end  of  the  appointed  year, 
that  Bude  received  a  telegram  in  cipher  from  the  trus- 
tees. Bearded,  and  in  blue  spectacles,  clad  rudely  as 
a  mariner,  Bude  was  to  all,  except  Logan,  who  had 
accompanied  him,  plain  Jones  Harvey.  None  could 
have  recognised  in  his  rugged  aspect  the  elegant 
aristocrat  of  Mayfair. 

Bude  took  the  message  from  the  hands  of  the  Maori 
bearer.  As  he  deciphered  it  his  fingers  trembled 
with  eagerness.  '  Oh,  Heaven  !  Here  is  the  Hand 
of  Destiny ! '  he  exclaimed,  when  he  had  read  the 
message ;  and  with  pallid  face  he  dropped  into  a 
deck-chair. 

'No  bad  news? '  asked  Logan  with  anxiety. 

'The  port  of  rendezvous,'  said  Bude,  much  agitated. 
'  Come  down  to  my  cabin.' 

Entering  the  sumptuous  cabin,  Bude  opened  the 
locked  door  of  a  state-room,  and  uttered  some  words 
in  an  unknown  tongue.  A  tall  and  very  ancient 
Maori,  tatooed  with  the  native  '  Moka '  on  every  inch 
of  his  body,  emerged.  The  snows  of  some  eighty 
winters  covered  his  broad  breast  and  majestic  head. 
His  eyes  were  full  of  the  secrets  of  primitive  races. 
For  clothing  he  wore  two  navy  revolvers  stuck  in  a 
waist-cloth. 

'  Te-iki-pa,'  said  Bude,  in  the  Maori  language, 
'  watch  by  the  door,  we  must  have  no  listeners,  and 


2  22  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

your  ears  are  keen  as  those  of  the  youngest  Ran- 
gatira '  (warrior). 

The  august  savage  nodded,  and,  lying  down  on  the 
floor,  applied  his  ear  to  the  chink  at  its  foot. 

'  The  port  of  tryst,'  whispered  Bude  to  Logan,  as 
they  seated  themselves  at  the  remotest  extremity  of 
the  cabin,  '  is  in  Cagayan  Sulu.' 

'  And  where  may  that  be  ? '  asked  Logan,  lighting 
a  cigarette. 

'  It  is  a  small  volcanic  island,  the  most  southerly 
of  the  Philippines.' 

'  American  territory  now,'  said  Logan.  '  But  what 
about  it?  If  it  was  anybody  but  you,  Bude,  I  should 
say  he  was  in  a  funk.' 

'  I  am  in  a  funk,'  answered  Bude  simply. 

'Why?' 

'  I  have  been  there  before  and  left  —  a  blood-feud.' 

'What  of  it?  We  have  one  here,  with  the  Maori 
King,  about  you  know  what.  Have  we  not  the 
Maxims,  and  any  quantity  of  Lee-Metfords?  Be- 
sides, you  need  not  go  ashore  at  Cagayan  Sulu.' 

'  But  they  can  come  aboard.  Bullets  won't  stop 
them.' 

'  Stop  whom?     The  natives?' 

'  The  Berbalangs :  you  might  as  well  try  to  stop 
mosquitoes  with  Maxims.' 

'  Who  are  the  Berbalangs  then?  ' 

Bude  paced  the  cabin  in  haggard  anxiety.  '  Least 
said,  soonest  mended,'  he  muttered, 

'  Well,  I  don't  want  your  confidence,'  said  Logan, 
hurt. 

'  My  dear  fellow,'  said   Bude  affectionately,  '  you 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE  FAIR   AMERICAN     223 

are  likely  to  know  soon  enough.  In  the  meantime, 
please  accept  this.' 

He  opened  a  strong  box,  which  appeared  to  con- 
tain jewellery,  and  offered  Logan  a  ring.  Between  two 
diamonds  of  the  finest  water  it  contained  a  bizarre 
muddy  coloured  pearl.  *  Never  let  that  leave  your 
finger,'  said  Bude.     '  Your  life  may  hang  on  it.' 

'  It  is  a  pretty  talisman,'  said  Logan,  placing  the 
jewel  on  the  little  finger  of  his  right  hand.  *  A  token 
of  some  friendly  chief,  I  suppose,  at  Cagayan  —  what 
do  you  call  it?  ' 

'  Let  us  put  it  at  that,'  answered  Bude ;  *  I  must 
take  other  precautions.' 

It  seemed  to  Logan  that  these  consisted  in  making 
similar  presents  to  the  officers  and  crew,  all  of  whom 
were  Englishmen.  Te-iki-pa  displaced  his  nose- 
ring and  inserted  his  pearl  in  the  orifice  previously 
occupied  by  that  ornament.  A  little  chain  of  the 
pearls  was  hung  on  the  padlock  of  the  huge  pack- 
ing-case, which  was  the  special  care  of  Te-iki-pa. 

'  Luckily  I  had  the  yacht's  painting  altered  before 
leaving  England,'  said  Bude.  '  I  '11  sail  her  under 
Spanish  colours,  and  perhaps  they  won't  spot  her. 
Any  way,  with  the  pearls  —  lucky  I  bought  a  lot  — 
we  ought  to  be  safe  enough.  But  if  any  one  of  the 
competitors  has  gone  for  specimens  of  the  Berbalangs, 
I  fear,  I  sadly  fear,  the  consequences.'  His  face 
clouded ;  he  fell  into  a  reverie. 

Logan  made  no  reply,  but  puffed  rings  of  cigarette 
smoke  into  the  still  blue  air.  There  was  method  in 
Bude's  apparent  madness,  but  Logan  suspected  that 
there  was  madness  in  his  method. 


2  24  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

A  certain  coolness  had  not  ceased  to  exist  between 
the  friends  when,  after  their  long  voyage,  they  sighted 
the  volcanic  craters  of  the  lonely  isle  of  Cagayan  Sulu 
and  beheld  the  Stars  and  Stripes  waving  from  the 
masthead  of  the  George  Washington  (Captain  Noah 
P.  Funkal). 

Logan  landed,  and  noted  the  harmless  but  well- 
armed  half-Mahometan  natives  of  the  village.  He 
saw  the  other  competitors,  whose  '  exhibits,'  as  Miss 
McCabe  called  them,  were  securely  stored  in  the 
George  Washington  —  strange  spoils  of  far-off  mysteri- 
ous forests,  and  unplumbed  waters  of  the  remotest  isles. 
Occasionally  a  barbaric  yap,  or  a  weird  yell  or  hoot, 
was  wafted  on  the  air  at  feeding  time.  Jenkins  of  All 
Souls  (whom  he  knew  a  little)  Logan  did  not  meet 
on  the  beach;  he,  like  Bude,  tarried  aboard  ship. 
The  other  adventurers  were  civil  but  remote,  and 
there  was  a  jealous  air  of  suspicion  on  every  face 
save  that  of  Professor  Potter.  He,  during  the  day 
of  waiting  on  the  island,  played  golf  with  Logan  over 
links  which  he  had  hastily  improvised.  Beyond  ad- 
mitting, as  they  played,  that  his  treasure  was  in  a 
tank,  •  and  as  well  as  could  be  expected,  poor  brute, 
but  awful  noisy,'  Professor  Potter  offered  no  infor- 
mation. 

'  Our  find  is  quiet  enough,'  said  Logan. 

'  Does  he  give  you  trouble  about  food?  '  asked  Mr, 
Potter. 

'  Takes  nothing,'  said  Logan,  adding,  as  he  holed 
out,  '  that  makes  me  dormy  two.' 

From  the  rest  of  the  competitors  not  even  this 
amount  of  information  could  be   extracted,  and    as 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE  FAIR  AMERICAN     225 

for  Captain  Noah  Funkal,  he  was  taciturn,  authorita- 
tive, and,  Logan  thought,  not  in  a  very  good  temper. 

The  George  Washington  and  the  Pendragon  (so 
Jones  Harvey  had  christened  the  yacht  which  under 
Bude's  colours  sailed  as  The  Sabrina)  weighed  anchor 
simultaneously.  If  possible  they  were  not  to  lose 
sight  of  each  other,  and  they  corresponded  by  signals 
and  through  the  megalophone. 

The  hours  of  daylight  on  the  first  day  of  the  return 
voyage  passed  peacefully  at  deck-cricket,  as  far  as 
Logan,  Bude,  and  such  of  the  officers  and  men  as 
could  be  spared  were  concerned.  At  last  night 
came  '  at  one  stride,'  and  the  vast  ocean  plain  was 
only  illuminated  by  the  pale  claritude  that  falls  from 
the  stars.  Logan  and  Bude  (they  had  not  dressed 
for  dinner,  but  wore  yachting  suits)  were  smoking  on 
deck,  when,  quite  suddenly,  a  loud,  almost  musical, 
roar  or  hum  was  heard  from  the  direction  of  the  dis- 
tant island. 

'  What's  that?  '  asked  Logan,  leaping  up  and  look- 
ing towards  Cagayan  Sulu. 

'  The  Berbalangs,'  said  Bude  coolly.  '  You  are 
wearing  the  ring  I  gave  you?' 

'Yes,  always  do,'  said  Logan,  looking  at  his  hand. 

'  All  the  men  have  their  pearls ;  I  saw  to  that,'  said 
Bude. 

'  Why,  the  noise  is  dwindling,'  said  Logan.  'That 
is  odd ;   it  seemed  to  be  coming  this  way.' 

'  So  it  is,'  said  Bude ;  '  the  nearer  they  approach 
the  less  you  hear  them.  When  they  have  come  on 
board  you  won't  hear  them  at  all.' 

Logan  stared,  but  asked  no  more  questions, 
15 


226  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  musical  boom  as  it  approached  had  died  to  a 
whisper,  and  then  had  fallen  into  perfect  silence.  At 
the  very  moment  when  the  mysterious  sound  ceased, 
a  swarm  of  things  like  red  fire-flies,  a  host  of  floating 
specks  of  ruby  light,  invaded  the  deck  in  a  cluster. 
The  red  points  then  scattered,  approached  each  man 
on  board,  and  paused  when  within  a  yard  of  his  head 
or  breast.  Then  they  vanished.  A  queer  kind  of 
chill  ran  down  Logan's  spine ;  then  the  faint  whis- 
pered musical  moan  tingled  in  each  man's  ears,  and 
the  sounds  as  they  departed  eastwards  gathered 
volume  and  force  till,  in  a  moment,  there  fell  perfect 
stillness. 

Stillness,  broken  only  by  a  sudden  and  mysterious 
chorus  of  animal  cries  from  the  George  Washington. 
A  kind  of  wail,  high,  shrieking,  strenuous,  ending  m  a 
noise  as  of  air  escaping  from  a  pipe ;  a  torrent  of 
barks  such  as  no  known  beast  could  utter,  subsiding 
into  moans  that  chilled  the  blood ;  a  guttural  scream, 
broken  by  heavy  sounds  as  if  of  water  lapping  on  a 
rock  at  uncertain  intervals ;  a  human  cry,  human 
words,  with  unfamiliar  vowel  sounds,  soon  slipping 
into  quiet  —  these  were  among  the  horrors  that  as- 
sailed the  ears  of  the  voyagers  in  the  Pendragoti. 
Such  a  discord  of  laments  has  not  tingled  to  the 
indifl"erent  stars  since  the  ice-wave  swept  into  their 
last  retreats,  and  crushed  among  the  rocks  that  bear 
their  fossil  forms,  the  fauna  of  the  preglacial  period, 
the  Ichthyosaurus,  the  Brontosaurus,  the  Guyas  Cutis 
(or  Ring-tailed  Roarer),  the  Mastodon,  and  the 
Mammoth. 

'  What  a  row  in  the  menagerie  ! '  said  Logan. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     227 

He  was  not  answered. 

Bude  had  fallen  into  a  deck-chair,  his  face  buried 
in  his  hands,  his  arms  rocking  convulsively. 

'  I  say,  old  cock,  pull  yourself  together,'  said  Logan, 
and'  rushing  down  the  companion  stairs,  he  reap- 
peared with  a  bottle  of  champagne.  To  extract  the 
cork  (how  familiar,  how  reassuring,  sounded  the 
cloop  !),  and  to  pour  the  foaming  beverage  into  two 
long  tumblers,  was,  to  the  active  Logan,  the  work  of  a 
moment.  Shaking  Bude,  he  offered  him  the  beaker; 
the  earl  drained  it  at  a  draught.  He  shuddered,  but 
rose  to  his  feet. 

'  Not  a  man  alive  on  that  doomed  vessel,'  he  was 
saying,  when  anew  the  still  air  was  rent  by  the 
raucous  notes  of  a  megalophone : 

'  Is  your  exhibit  all  right  ?  ' 

'  Fit  as  a  fiddle,'  answered  Logan  through  a  similar 
instrument. 

'  Our  exhibits  are  gone  bust,'  answered  Captain 
Noah  Funkal.  '  Our  professors  are  in  fits.  Our  dar- 
keys are  all  dead.     Can  your  skipper  come  aboard?' 

'Just  launching  a  boat,'  cried  Logan. 

Bude  gave  the  necessary  orders.  His  captain 
stepped  up  to   him  and   saluted. 

'  Do  you  know  what  these  red  fire-flies  were  that 
come  aboard,  sir?  '  he  asked. 

'Fire-flies?  Oh,  miiscce  volitantes  sonorcE,  a  com- 
mon phenomenon  in  these  latitudes,'  answered  Bude. 

Logan  rejoiced  to  see  that  the  earl  was  himself 
again. 

'  The  other  gentlemen's  scientific  beasts  don't  seem 
to  like  them,  sir?  ' 


238  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

'  So  Captain  Funkal  seems  to  imply,'  said  Bude, 
and,  taking  the  ropes,  with  Logan  beside  him,  while 
the  Pendragon  lay  to,  he  steered  the  boat  towards  the 
George  Washington. 

The  captain  welcomed  them  on  deck  in  a  scene  of 
unusual  character.  He  himself  had  a  revolver  in  one 
hand,  and  a  belaying  pin  in  the  other ;  he  had  been 
quelling,  by  the  tranquillising  methods  of  Captain 
Kettle.,  a  mutiny  caused  by  the  terror  of  the  crew. 
The  sailors  had  attempted  to  leap  overboard  in  the 
alarm  caused  by  the  invasion  of  the  Berbalangs. 

'  You  will  excuse  my  friend  and  myself  for  not 
being  in  evening  dress,  during  a  visit  at  this  hour,' 
said  Bude  in  the  silkiest  of  tones. 

'  Glad  to  see  you  shipshape,  gentlemen,'  answered 
the  American  mariner.  *  My  dudes  of  professors 
were  prancing  round  in  Tuxedos  and  Prince  Alberts 
when  the  darned  fire-flies  came  aboard.' 

Bude  bowed.  Study  of  Miss  McCabe  had  taught 
him  that  Tuxedos  and  Prince  Alberts  mean  evening 
dress  and  frock-coats. 

'  Yi'xdi  your  men  have  fits?  '  asked  the  captain. 

'  My  captain,  Captain  Hardy,  made  a  scientific 
inquiry  about  the  —  insects,'  said  Bude.  *  The  crew- 
showed  no  emotion.' 

'  I  guess  our  fire-bugs  were  more  on  business  than 
yours,'  said  Captain  Funkal ;  '  they  've  wrecked  the  ex- 
hibits, and  killed  the  darkeys  with  fright :  except  two, 
and  they  were  exhibits  themselves.  Will  you  honour 
me  by  stepping  into  my  cabin,  gentlemen.  I  am 
glad  to  see  sane  white  men  to-night.' 

Bude  and  Logan  followed  him  through  a  scene  of 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     229 

melancholy  interest.  Beside  the  mast,  within  a  shat- 
tered palisade,  lay  huddled  the  vast  corpse  of  the 
Mylodon  of  Patagonia,  couchant  amidst  his  fodder  of 
chopped  hay.  The  expression  of  the  huge  animal 
was,  placid  and  urbane  in  death.  He  was  the  victim 
of  the  ceaseless  curiosity  of  science.  Two  of  the  five- 
horned  antelope  giraffes  of  Central  Africa  lay  in  a 
confused  heap  of  horns  and  hoofs.  Beside  an  im- 
mense tank  couched  a  figure  in  evening  dress,  swearing 
in  a  subdued  tone.  Logan  recognised  Professor  Potter. 
He  gently  laid  his  hand  on  the  Professor's  shoulder. 
The  Scottish  savant  looked  up : 

*  It  is  a  dommed  mismanaged  affair,'  he  said.  *  I 
could  have  brought  the  poor  beast  safe  enough  from  the 
Clyde  to  New  York,  but  the  Americans  made  me  harl 
him  round  by  yon  island  of  camstairy  deevils,'  and  he 
shook  his  fist  in  the  direction  of  Cagayan  Sulu. 

'  What  had  you  got?  '  asked  Logan. 

'  The  Beathach  na  Loch  na  bheiste'  said  Potter.  '  I 
drained  the  Loch  to  get  him.  Fortunately,'  he  added, 
'  it  was  at  the  expense  of  the  Trust.' 

After  a  few  words  of  commonplace  but  heartfelt 
condolence,  Logan  descended  the  companion,  and  fol- 
lowed Bude  and  Captain  Funkal  into  the  cabin  of 
that  officer.  The  captain  placed  refreshments  on  the 
table. 

'  Now,  gentlemen,'  he  said,  '  you  have  seen  the 
least  riled  of  my  professors,  and  you  can  guess  what 
the  rest  are  like.  Professor  Rustler  is  weeping  in  his 
cabin  over  a  shrivelled  old  mummy.  "  Never  will  he 
speak  again,"  says  he,  and  I  am  bound  to  say  that  I 
hev  heard  the  critter  discourse  once.     The  mummy 


2  30  THE   DISExVTANGLERS 

let  some  awful  yells  out  of  him  when  the  fire-bugs 
came  aboard-' 

'  Yes,  we  heard  a  human  cry,'  said  Bude. 

'  I  had  thought  the  talk  was  managed  with  a  con- 
cealed gramophone,'  said  the  captain,  '  but  it  was  n't. 
The  Bunyip  from  Central  Australia  has  gone  to  his 
long  home.  That  was  Professor  Wilkinson's  pet. 
There  is  nothing  left  alive  out  of  the  lot  but  the 
natives  that  Professor  Jenkins  of  England  brought 
in  irons  from  Cagayan  Sulu.  I  reckon  them  two 
niggers  are  somehow  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
ruction.' 

'  Indeed,  and  why? '  asked  Bude. 

'  Why,  sir  —  I  am  addressing  Professor  Jones 
Harvey? ' 

Bude  bowed.  '  Harvey,  captain,  but  not  professor 
—  simple  amateur  seaman  and  explorer.* 

'  Sir,  your  hand,'  said  the  captain.  'Your  friend  is 
not  a  professor? ' 

'  Not  I,'  said  Logan,  smiling. 

The  captain  solemnly  shook  hands.  '  Gentlemen, 
you  have  sand,'  he  said,  a  supreme  tribute  of  respect. 
'  Well,  about  these  two  natives.  I  never  liked  taking 
them  aboard.  They  are,  in  consequence  of  the 
triumph  of  our  arms,  American  subjects,  natives  of 
the  conquered  Philippines.  I  am  no  lawyer,  and 
they  may  be  citizens,  they  may  have  votes.  They 
are  entitled,  anyway,  to  the  protection  of  the  Flag, 
and  I  would  have  entered  them  as  steerage  pas- 
sengers. But  that  Professor  Jenkins  (and  the  other 
professors  agreed)  would  have  it  that  they  came 
under  the  head  of  scientific  exhibits.     And  they  did 


ADVENTURE  OF  THE   FAIR  AMERICAN     231 

allow  that  the  critters  were  highly  dangerous.    I  guess 
they  were  right.' 

'  Why,  what  could  they  do  ?  ' 

'  Well,  gentlemen,  I  heard  stories  on  shore  that  I 
took,  no  stock  in.  I  am  not  a  superstitious  man,  but 
they  allowed  that  these  darkeys  are  not  of  a  common 
tribe,  but  what  the  papers  call  "highly  developed 
mediums."  And  I  guess  they  are  at  the  bottom  of 
the  stramash.' 

'  Captain  Funkal,  may  I  be  frank  with  you?'  asked 
Bude. 

'  I  am  hearing  you,'  said  the  captain. 

'  Then,  to  put  it  shortly,  I  have  been  at  Cagayan 
Sulu  before,  on  an  exploring  cruise.  That  was  in 
1897.  I  never  wanted  to  go  back  to  it.  Logan,  did 
I  not  regret  the  choice  of  that  port  when  the  news 
reached  us  in  New  Zealand  ?  ' 

Logan  nodded.     *  You  funked  it,'  he  said. 

'  When  I  was  at  Cagayan  Sulu  in  1897  ^  heard  from 
the  natives  of  a  singular  tribe  in  the  centre  of  the 
island.     This  tribe  is  the  Berbalangs.' 

'  That 's  what  Professor  Jenkins  called  them,'  said 
the  captain. 

'  The  Berbalangs  are  subject  to  neither  of  the 
chiefs  in  the  island.  No  native  will  approach  their 
village.  They  are  cannibals.  The  story  is  that  they 
can  throw  themselves  into  a  kind  of  trance.  They 
then  project  a  something  or  other — spirit,  astral 
body,  influence  of  some  kind  —  which  flies  forth, 
making  a  loud  noise  when  distant.' 

'  That 's  what  we  heard,'  said  the  captain. 

'  But  is  silent  when  they  are  close  at  hand.' 


232  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Silent  they  were,'  said  the  captain. 

'  They  then  appear  as  points  of  red  flame.' 

'  That 's  so,'  interrupted  the  captain. 

'  And  cause  death  to  man  and  beast,  apparently  by 
terror.  I  have  seen,'  said  Bude,  shuddering,  '  the 
face  of  a  dead  native  of  high  respectability,  into 
whose  house,  before  my  own  eyes,  these  points  of 
flame  had  entered.  I  had  to  force  the  door,  it 
was  strongly  barred  within.  I  never  mentioned 
the  fact  before,  knowing  that  I  could  not  expect 
belief.' 

'  Well,  sir,  I  believe  you.     You  are  a  white  man.' 

Bude  bowed,  and  went  on.  '  The  circumstances, 
though  not  generally  known,  have  been  published, 
captain,  by  a  gentleman  of  reputation,  Mr.  Edward 
Forbes  Skertchley,  of  Hong  Kong.  His  paper  in- 
deed, in  the  yoiirtial  of  a  learned  association,  the 
Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal,^  induced  me,  most  unfor- 
tunately, to  visit  Cagayan  Sulu,  when  it  was  still 
nominally  in  the  possession  of  the  Spaniards.  My 
experience  was  similar  to  that  of  Mr.  Skertchley,  but, 
for  personal  reasons,  was  much  more  awful  and  dis- 
tressing. One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  island 
girls,  a  person  of  most  amiable  and  winning  character, 
not,  alas  !  of  my  own  faith  '  — Bude's  voice  broke  — 
'was  one  of  the  victims  of  the  Berbalangs.  ...  I 
loved  her.' 

He  paused,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 
The  others  respected  and  shared  his  emotion.  The 
captain,  like  all  sailors,  sympathetic,  dashed  away  a 
tear. 

1  Part  III.  No.  I,  1896.  Baptist  Mission  Press.  Calcutta, 
1897. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     233 

'  One  thing  I  ought  to  add,'  said  Bude,  recovering 
himself,  '  I  am  no  more  superstitious  than  you  are, 
Captain  Funkal,  and  doubtless  science  will  find  a 
simple,  satisfactory,  and  normal  explanation  of  the 
facts,  the  existence  of  which  we  are  both  compelled 
to  admit.  I  have  heard  of  no  well  authenticated  in- 
stance in  which  the  force,  whatever  it  is,  has  been 
fatal  to  Europeans.  The  superstitious  natives,  much 
as  they  dread  the  Berbalangs,  believe  that  they  will 
not  attack  a  person  who  wears  a  cocoa-nut  pearl. 
Why  this  should  be  so,  if  so  it  is,  I  cannot  guess. 
But,  as  it  is  always  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  I  pro- 
vided myself  five  years  ago  with  a  collection  of  these 
objects,  and  when  I  heard  that  we  were  ordered  to 
Cagayan  Sulu  I  distributed  them  among  my  crew. 
My  friend,  you  may  obser\'e,  wears  one  of  the  pearls. 
I  have  several  about  my  person.'  He  disengaged  a 
pin  from  his  necktie,  a  muddy  pearl  set  with  burning 
rubies.  '  Perhaps,  Captain  Funkal,  you  will  honour 
me  by  accepting  this  specimen,  and  wearing  it  while 
we  are  in  these  latitudes?  If  it  does  no  good,  it  can 
do  no  harm.  We,  at  least,  have  not  been  molested, 
though  we  witnessed  the  phenomena.' 

'  Sir,'  said  the  captain, '  I  appreciate  your  kindness, 
and  I  value  your  gift  as  a  memorial  of  one  of  the 
most  singular  experiences  in  a  seafaring  life.  I  drink 
your  health  and  your  friend's.  Mr.  Logan,  to  yoit! 
The  captain  pledged  his  guests. 

'  And  now,  gentlemen,  what  am  I  to  do?  ' 
'  That,  captain,  is  for  your  own  consideration.' 
'  I  '11  carpet  that  lubber,  Jenkins,'  said  the  captain, 
and  leaving  the  cabin,  he  returned  with  the  Fellow  of 


234  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

All  Souls.  His  shirt  front  was  ruffled,  his  white  neck- 
cloth awry,  his  pallid  countenance  betrayed  a  sensi- 
tive second-rate  mind,  not  at  unity  with  itself.  He 
nodded  sullenly  to  Logan :   Bude  he  did  not  know, 

'  Professor  Jenkins,  Mr.  Jones  Harvey,'  said  the 
captain.  '  Sit  down,  sir.  Take  a  drink ;  you  seem 
to  need  one.'  Jenkins  drained  the  tumbler,  and  sat 
with  downcast  eyes,  his  finger  drumming  nervously 
on  the  table. 

'  Professor  Jenkins,  sir,  I  reckon  you  are  the  cause 
of  the  unparalleled  disaster  to  this  exploring  expe- 
dition. Why  did  you  bring  these  two  natives  of  our 
territory  on  board,  you  well  and  duly  knowing  that 
the  end  would  not  justify  the  proceedings?  ' 

A  furtive  glance  from  Jenkins  lighted  on  the  dia- 
monds that  sparkled  in  Logan's  ring.  He  caught 
Logan's  hand. 

'Traitor!'  he  cried.  'What  will  not  scientific 
jealousy  dare,  that  meanest  of  the  passions !  ' 

'  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  '  said  Logan  angrily, 
wrenching  his  hand  away. 

'  You  leave  Mr.  Logan  alone,  sir,'  said  the  captain. 
'  I  have  two  minds  to  put  you  in  irons,  Mr.  Professor 
Jenkins.     If  you  please,  explain  yourself.' 

'  I  denounce  this  man  and  his  companion,'  said 
Jenkins,  noticing  a  pearl  ring  on  Bude's  finger ;  '  I  de- 
nounce them  of  conspiracy,  mean  conspiracy,  against 
this  expedition,  and  against  the  American  flag.' 

'As  how?' inquired  the  captain,  lighting  a  cigar 
with  irritating  calmness. 

'  They  wear  these  pearls,  in  which  I  had  trusted 
for  absolute  security  against  the  Berbalangs.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     235 

'  Well,  I  wear  one  too,'  said  the  captain,  pointing 
to  the  pin  in  his  necktie.  '  Are  you  going  to  tell  me 
that  /am  a  traitor  to  the  flag,  sir?  I  warn  you  Pro- 
fessor, to  be  careful.' 

*  Wjiat  am  I  to  think?'  asked  Jenkins. 

'  It  is  rather  more  important  what  you  say^  replied 
the  captain.     '  What  is  this  fine  conspiracy?' 

'  I  had  read  in  England  about  the  Berbalangs.' 

'  Probably  in  Mr.  Skertchley's  curious  paper  in  the 
Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Bengal?'  asked 
Bude  with  suavity. 

Jenkins  merely  stared  at  him, 

'  I  deemed  that  specimens  of  these  American  sub- 
jects, dowered  with  their  strange  and  baneful  gift, 
were  well  worthy  of  the  study  of  American  savants ; 
and  I  knew  that  the  pearls  were  a  certain  prophy- 
lactic' 

'  What 's  that?  '  asked  the  captain. 

'  A  kind  of  Universal  Pain-Killer,'  said  Jenkins, 

'  Well,  you  surprise  me,'  said  the  captain,  '  a  man 
of  your  education.  Pain-Killer  !  '  and  he  expecto- 
rated dexterously. 

'  I  mean  that  the  pearls  keep  off  the  Berbalangs,' 
said  Jenkins. 

'  Then  why  did  n't  you  lay  in  a  stock  of  the  pearls  ? ' 
asked  the  captain. 

'  Because  these  conspirators  had  been  before  me. 
These  men,  or  their  agents,  had  bought  up,  just  be- 
fore our  arrival,  every  pearl  in  the  island.  They  had 
wormed  out  my  secret,  knew  the  object  of  my  adven- 
ture, knew  how  to  ruin  us  all,  and  I  denounce  them.' 

'  A  corner  in  pearls.     Well,  it  was  darned  'cute,' 


236  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

said  the  captain  impartially.     *  Now,  Mr.  Jones  Har- 
vey, and  Mr.  Logan,  sir,  what  have jyoti  to  say?' 

*  Did  Mr.  Jenkins  —  I  think  you  said  that  this  gen- 
tleman's name  is  Jenkins?  —  see  the  agent  engaged 
in  making  this  corner  in  pearls,  or  learn  his  name?' 
asked  Bude. 

*  He  was  an  Irish  American,  one  McCarthy,' 
answered  Jenkins  sullenly. 

'  I  am  unacquainted  with  the  gentleman,'  said  Bude, 
'  and  I  never  employed  any  one  for  any  such  purpose. 
My  visit  to  Cagayan  Sulu  was  some  years  ago,  just 
after  that  of  Mr.  Skertchley,  Captain  Funkal,  I  have 
already  acquainted  you  with  the  facts,  and  you  were 
kind  enough  to  say  that  you  accepted  my  statement.' 

'  I  did,  sir,  and  I  do,'  answered  the  captain.  '  As 
for  ^02(,'  he  went  on,  '  Mr.  Professor  Jenkins,  when 
you  found  that  your  game  was  dangerous,  indeed 
likely  to  be  ruinous,  to  this  scientific  expedition,  and 
to  the  crew  of  the  George  Washington  —  damn  you, 
sir  —  you  should  have  dropped  it.  I  don't  know  that 
I  ever  swore  at  a  passenger  before,  and  I  beg  your 
pardon,  you  two  English  gentlemen,  for  so  far  forget- 
ting myself.  I  don't  know,  and  these  gentlemen  don't 
know,  who  made  the  corner,  but  I  don't  think  our  citi- 
zens want  either  you  or  your  exhibits.  The  whole  pop- 
ulation of  the  States,  sir,  not  to  mention  the  live  stock, 
cannot  afford  to  go  about  wearing  cocoa-nut  pearls,  a 
precaution  which  would  be  necessary  if  I  landed  these 
venomous  Berbalangs  of  yours  on  our  shores :  man 
and  wife  too,  likely  to  have  a  family  of  young  Berba- 
langs. Snakes  are  not  a  patch  on  these  darkeys,  and 
our  coloured  population,  at  least,  would  be  busted  up.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     237 

The  captain  paused,  perhaps  attracted  by  the  chance 
of  thus  solving  the  negro  problem. 

'  So,  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is,  gentlemen ;  and,  Pro- 
fessor Jenkins,  I'll  turn  back  and  land  these  two 
native'  exhibits,  and  I  '11  put  yoti  on  shore.  Professor 
Jenkins,  at  Cagayan  Sulu.  Perhaps  before  a  steamer 
touches  there  —  which  is  not  once  in  a  blue  moon  — 
you  '11  have  had  time  to  write  an  exhaustive  mono- 
graph on  the  Berbalangs,  their  manners  and  customs.' 

Jenkins  (who  knew  what  awaited  him)  threw  him- 
self on  the  floor  at  the  feet  of  Captain  Funkal.  Hor- 
rified by  the  abject  distress  of  one  who,  after  all,  was 
their  countryman,  Bude  and  Logan  induced  the  cap- 
tain to  seclude  Jenkins  in  his  cabin.  They  then,  by 
their  combined  entreaties,  prevailed  on  the  officer  to 
land  the  Berbalangs  on  their  own  island,  indeed,  but 
to  drop  Jenkins  later  on  civilised  shores.  Dawn  saw 
the  George  Washington  and  the  Pendragon  in  the  port 
of  Cagayan  Sulu,  where  the  fetters  of  the  two  natives, 
ill  looking  people  enough,  were  knocked  off,  and  they 
themselves  deposited  on  the  quay,  where,  not  being 
popular,  they  were  received  by  a  hostile  demonstra- 
tion. The  two  vessels  then  resumed  their  eastward 
course.  The  taxidermic  appliances  without  which 
Jones  Harvey  never  sailed,  and  the  services  of  his 
staff  of  taxidermists,  were  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
his  brother  savants.  By  this  means  a  stuffed  Mylo- 
don,  a  stuffed  Beathach,  stuffed  five-horned  antelopes 
and  a  stuffed  Bunyip,  with  a  common  gorilla  and 
the  Toltec  mummy,  now  forever  silent,  were  passed 
through  the  New  York  Custom  House,  and  con- 
signed to  the  McCabe  Museum  of  Natural  Varieties. 


238  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  immense  case  that  contained  the  discovery  of 
Jones  Harvey  was  also  carefully  conveyed  to  an  apart- 
ment prepared  for  it  in  the  same  repository.  The 
competitors  sought  their  hotels,  Te-iki-pa  marching 
beside  Logan  and  Jones  Harvey.  But,  by  special 
arrangement,  either  Jones  Harvey  or  his  Maori  ally 
always  slept  beside  their  mysterious  case,  which  they 
watched  with  passionate  attention.  Two  or  three 
days  were  spent  in  setting  up  the  stuffed  exhibits. 
Then  the  trustees,  through  The  Yelloiv  Flag  (the 
paper  founded  by  the  late  Mr.  McCabe),  announced 
to  the  startled  citizens  the  nature  of  the  competition. 
On  successive  days  the  vast  theatre  of  the  McCabe 
Museum  would  be  open,  and  each  competitor,  in  turn, 
would  display  to  the  public  his  contribution,  and  lec- 
ture on  his  adventures  and  on  the  variety  of  nature 
which  he  had  secured. 

While  the  death  of  the  animals  was  deplored,  noth- 
ing was  said,  for  obvious  reasons,  about  the  causes  of 
the  catastrophe. 

The  general  excitement  was  intense.  Interviewers 
scoured  the  city,  and  flocked,  to  little  purpose, 
around  the  officials  of  the  McCabe  Museum.  Special 
trains  were  run  from  all  quarters.  The  hotels  were 
thronged.  '  America,'  it  was  announced,  '  had  taken 
hold  of  science,  and  was  just  going  to  make  science 
hum.' 

On  the  first  day  of  the  exhibition.  Dr.  Hiram  Dodge 
displayed  the  stuffed  Mylodon.  The  agitation  was  un- 
precedented. America  had  bred,  in  ancient  days,  and 
an  American  citizen  had  discovered,  the  monstrous 
yet  amiable  animal  whence  prehistoric  Patagonia  drew 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    FAIR   AMERICAN     239 

her  milk  supplies  and  cheese  stufifs.  Mr.  Dodge's 
adventures,  he  modestly  said,  could  only  be  ade- 
quately narrated  by  Mr.  Rider  Haggard.  Unluckily 
the  Mylodon  had  not  survived  the  conditions  of  the 
voyage,  the  change  of  climates.  The  applause  was 
thunderous.  Mr,  Dodge  gracefully  expressed  his 
obligations  to  his  fair  and  friendly  rival,  Mr.  Jones 
Harvey,  who  had  loaned  his  taxidermic  appliances.  It 
did  not  appear  to  the  public  that  the  Mylodon  could 
be  excelled  in  interest.  The  Toltec  mummy,  as  he 
could  no  longer  talk,  was  flat  on  a  falling  market, 
nor  was  Mr.  Rustler's  narrative  of  its  conversational 
powers  accepted  by  the  scepticism  of  the  populace, 
though  it  was  corroborated  by  Captain  Funkal,  Pro- 
fessor Dodge,  and  Professor  Wilkinson,  who  swore 
affidavits  before  a  notary,  within  the  hearing  of  the 
multitude.  The  Beathach,  exhibited  by  Professor 
Potter,  was  reckoned  of  high  anatomical  interest  by 
scientific  characters,  but  it  was  not  of  American 
habitat,  and  left  the  people  relatively  cold.  On  the 
other  hand,  all  the  Macleans  and  Macdonnells  of 
Canada  and  Nova  Scotia  wept  tears  of  joy  at  the 
corroboration  of  their  tribal  legends,  and  the  popu- 
larity of  Professor  Potter  rivalled  even  that  of  Mr. 
Ian  Maclaren.  He  was  at  once  engaged  by  Major 
Pond  for  a  series  of  lectures.  The  adventures  of 
Howard  Fry,  in  the  taking  of  his  gorilla,  were  reck- 
oned interesting,  as  were  those  of  the  captor  of  the 
Bunyip,  but  both  animals  were  now  undeniably  dead. 
The  people  could  not  feed  them  with  waffles  and 
hominy  cakes  in  the  gardens  of  the  institute.  The 
savants  wrangled  on  the  anatomical  differences  and 


240  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

resemblances  of  the  Bunyip  and  the  Beathach ;  still 
the  critters  were,  to  the  general  mind,  only  stufifed 
specimens,  though  unique.  The  African  five-horned 
brutes  (though  in  quieter  times  they  would  have 
scored  a  triumph)  did  not  now  appeal  to  the  heart 
of  the  people. 

At  last  came  the  day  when,  in  the  huge  crowded 
amphitheatre,  with  Te-iki-pa  by  his  side,  Jones  Har- 
vey addressed  the  congregation.  First  he  exhibited 
a  skeleton  of  a  dinornis,  a  bird  of  about  twenty-five 
feet  in  height. 

'  Now,'  he  went  on,  '  thanks  to  the  assistance  of  a 
Maori  gentleman,  my  friend  the  Tohunga  Te-iki-pa ' 
—  (cheers,  Te-iki  bows  his  acknowledgments)  —  '  I 
propose  to  exhibit  to  you  this' 

With  a  touch  on  the  mechanism  he  unrolled  the 
valves  of  a  gigantic  incubator.  Within,  recumbent  on 
cotton  wool,  the  almost  frenzied  spectators  perceived 
two  monstrous  eggs,  like  those  of  the  Roc  of  Arabian 
fable.  Te-iki-pa  now  chanted  a  brief  psalm  in  his 
own  language.  One  of  the  eggs  rolled  gently  in  its 
place ;  then  the  other.  A  faint  crackling  noise  was 
heard,  first  from  one,  then  from  the  other  egg.  From 
each  emerged  the  featherless  head  of  a  fowl  —  the 
species  hitherto  unknown  to  the  American  continent. 
The  necks  pushed  forth,  then  the  shoulders,  then  both 
shells  rolled  away  in  fragments,  and  the  spectators 
gazed  on  two  fledgling  Moas.  Te-iki-pa,  on  inspec- 
tion, pronounced  them  to  be  cock  and  hen,  and  in 
healthy  condition.  The  breed,  he  said,  could  doubt- 
less be  acclimatised. 

The  professors  of  the  museum,  by  Jones  Harvey's 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    FAIR   AMERICAN     241 

request,  then  closely  examined  the  chickens.  There 
could  be  no  doubt  of  it,  they  unanimously  asserted : 
these  specimens  were  living  deinornithe  (which  for 
scientific  men,  is  not  a  bad  shot  at  the  dual  of 
deinofnis).  The  American  continent  was  now  en- 
dowed, through  the  enterprise  of  Mr.  Jones  Harvey, 
not  only  with  living  specimens,  but  with  a  probable 
breed  of  a  species  hitherto  thought  extinct. 

The  cheering  was  led  by  Captain  Funkal,  who 
waved  the  Stars  and  Stripes  and  the  Union  Jack. 
Words  cannot  do  justice  to  the  scene.  Women 
fainted,  strong  men  wept,  enemies  embraced  each 
other.  For  details  we  must  refer  to  the  files  of 
The  Yellow  Flag.  A  plebiscite  to  select  the  winner 
of  the  McCabe  Prize  was  organised  by  that  Jour- 
nal. The  Moas  (bred  and  exhibited  by  Mr.  Jones 
Harvey)  simply  romped  in,  by  1,732,901  votes,  the 
Mylodon  being  a  bad  second,  thanks  to  the  Irish 
vote. 

Bude  telegraphed  '  Victory,'  and  Miss  McCabe  by 
cable  answered  '  Bully  for  us.' 

The  secret  of  these  lovers  was  well  kept.  None 
who  watches  the  fascinating  Countess  of  Bude  as  she 
moves  through  the  gilded  saloons  of  Mayfair  guesses 
that  her  hand  was  once  the  prize  of  success  in  a 
scientific  exploration.  The  identity  of  Jones  Harvey 
remains  a  puzzle  to  the  learned.  For  the  rest,  a 
letter  in  which  Jenkins  told  the  story  of  the  Ber- 
balangs  was  rejected  by  the  Editor  of  Nature,  and 
has  not  yet  passed  even  the  Literary  Committee 
of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research.  The  classi- 
cal authority  on  the   Berbalangs   is   still  the   paper 

16 


242  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

by  Mr.  Skertchley  in  the  Journal  of  the  Asiatic 
Society  of  Bengal.^  The  scientific  gentlemen  who 
witnessed  the  onslaught  of  the  Berbalangs  have 
convinced  themselves  (except  Jenkins)  that  nothing 
of  the  sort  occurred  in  their  experience.  The 
evidence  of  Captain  Funkal  is  rejected  as  '  marine.' 

Te-iki-pa  decided  to  remain  in  New  York  as  cus- 
todian of  the  Moas.  He  occasionally  obliges  by 
exhibiting  a  few  feats  of  native  conjuring,  when  his 
performances  are  attended  by  the  elite  of  the  city. 
He  knows  that  his  countrymen  hold  him  in  feud,  but 
he  is  aware  that  they  fear  even  more  than  they  hate 
the  ex-medicine  man  of  his  Maori  Majesty. 

The  generosity  of  Bude  and  his  Countess  heaped 
rewards  on  Merton,  who  vainly  protested  that  his 
services  had  not  been  professional. 

The  frequent  appearance  of  new  American  novel- 
ists, whose  works  sell  250,000  copies  in  their  first 
month,  demonstrate  that  Mr.  McCabe's  scheme  for 
raising  the  level  of  genius  has  been  as  satisfactory  as 
it  was  original.     Genius  is  riz. 

But  who  *  cornered  '  the  muddy  pearls  in  Cagayan 
Sulu  ? 

That  secret  is  only  known  to  Lady  Bude,  her 
confessor,  and  the  Irish-American  agent  whom  she 
employed.  For  she,  as  we  saw,  had  got  at  the 
nature  of  poor  Jenkins's  project  and  had  acquainted 
herself  with  the  wonderful  properties  of  the  pearls, 
which  she  cornered. 

^  See  also  Monsieur  Henri  Junod,  in  Les  Ba-Ronga.  Attin- 
ger,  Neuchatel,  1898.  Unlike  Mr.  Skertchley,  M.  Junod  has 
not  himself  seen  the  creature. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   FAIR   AMERICAN     243 

As  a  patriot,  she  consoles  herself  for  the  loss  of 
the  other  exhibits  to  her  country,  by  the  reflection 
that  Berbalangs  would  have  been  the  most  mischie- 
vous of  pauper  immigrants.  But  of  all  this  Bude 
knows  nothing. 


XI 

ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS 

/.     The  Marquis  consults  Gray  and  Graham 

FEW  men  were,  and  perhaps  no  marquis  was  so 
unpopular  as  the  Marquis  of  Restalrig,  Logan's 
maternal  Scotch  cousin,  widely  removed.  He  was 
the  last  of  his  family,  in  the  direct  line,  and  on  his 
death  almost  all  his  vast  wealth  would  go  to  nobody 
knew  where.  To  be  sure  Logan  himself  would  suc- 
ceed to  the  title  of  Fastcastle,  which  descends  to 
heirs  general,  but  nothing  worth  having  went  with  the 
title.  Logan  had  only  the  most  distant  memory  of 
seeing  the  marquis  when  he  himself  was  a  little  boy, 
and  the  marquis  gave  him  two  sixpences.  His  rela- 
tionship to  his  opulent  though  remote  kinsman  had 
been  of  no  service  to  him  in  the  struggle  for  social 
existence.  It  carried  no  *  expectations,'  and  did  not 
afford  the  most  shadowy  basis  for  a  post  obit.  There 
was  no  entail,  the  marquis  could  do  as  he  Hked  with 
his  own. 

'  The  Jews  may  have  been  credulous  in  the  time  of 
Horace,'  Logan  said,  '  but  now  they  insist  on  the 
most  drastic  evidence  of  prospective  wealth.  No, 
they  won't  lend  me  a  shekel.' 

Events  were  to  prove  that  other  financial  operators 
were  better  informed  than  the  chosen  people,  though 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     245 

to  be  sure  their  belief  was  displayed  in  a  manner  at 
once  grotesque  and  painfully  embarrassing. 

Why  the  marquis  was  generally  disliked  we  might 
explain,  historically,  if  we  were  acquainted  with  the 
tale  of  his  infancy,  early  youth,  and  adolescence. 
Perhaps  he  had  been  betrayed  in  his  affections,  and 
was  '  taking  it  out '  of  mankind  in  general.  But  this 
notion  implies  that  the  marquis  once  had  some  affec- 
tions, a  point  not  hitherto  substantiated  by  any 
evidence.  Perhaps  heredity  was  to  blame,  some 
unhappy  blend  of  parentage.  An  ancestor  at  an  un- 
known period  may  have  bequeathed  to  the  marquis 
the  elements  of  his  unalluring  character.  But  the 
only  ancestor  of  marked  temperament  was  the  festive 
Logan  of  Restalrig,  who  conspired  over  his  cups  to 
kidnap  a  king,  laid  out  his  plot  on  the  lines  of  an 
Italian  novel,  and  died  without  being  detected.  This 
heroic  ancestor  admitted  that  he  hated  '  arguments 
derived  from  religion,'  and,  so  far,  the  Marquis  of 
Restalrig  was  quite  with  him,  if  the  arguments  bore 
on  giving  to  the  poor,  or,  indeed,  to  any  one. 

In  fact  the  marquis  was  that  unpopular  character, 
a  miser.  Your  miser  may  be  looked  up  to,  in  a  way, 
as  an  ideal  votary  of  Mammon,  but  he  is  never  loved. 
On  his  vast  possessions,  mainly  in  coal-fields,  he  was 
even  more  detested  than  the  ordinary  run  of  capitaHsts. 
The  cottages  and  farmhouses  on  his  estates  were 
dilapidated  and  insanitary  beyond  what  is  endurable. 
Of  his  many  mansions,  some  were  kept  in  decent 
repair,  because  he  drew  many  shillings  from  tourists 
admitted  to  view  them.  But  his  favourite  abode  was 
almost  as  ruinous  as  his  cottages,  and  an   artist   in 


246  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

search  of  a  model  for  the  domestic  interior  of  the 
Master  of  Ravenswood  might  have  found  what  he 
wanted  at  Kirkburn,  the  usual  lair  of  this  avaricious 
nobleman.  It  was  a  keep  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  looked  as  if  it  had  never  been  papered  or  painted 
since  Queen  Mary's  time.  But  it  was  near  the 
collieries ;  and  within  its  blackened  walls,  and  among 
its  bleak  fields  and  grimy  trees,  Lord  Restalrig  chose 
to  live  alone,  with  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman  for 
his  attendants.  The  woman  had  been  his  nurse ;  it 
was  whispered  in  the  district  that  she  was  also  his 
illegal-aunt,  or  perhaps  even,  so  to  speak,  his  illegal 
stepmother.  At  all  events,  she  endured  more  than 
anybody  but  a  Scotch  woman  who  had  been  his 
nurse  in  childhood  would  have  tolerated.  To  keep 
her  in  his  service  saved  him  the  cost  of  a  pension, 
which  even  the  marquis,  people  thought,  could  hardly 
refuse  to  allow  her.  The  other  old  servitor  was  her 
husband,  and  entirely  under  her  domination.  Both 
might  be  reckoned  staunch,  in  the  old  fashion,  '  to 
the  name,'  which  Logan  only  bore  by  accident,  his 
grandmother  having  wedded  a  kinless  Logan  who  had 
no  demonstrable  connection  with  the  house  of  Restal- 
rig. Any  mortal  but  the  marquis  would  probably  have 
brought  Logan  up  as  his  heir,  for  the  churlish  peer 
had  no  nearer  connection.  But  the  marquis  did 
more  than  sympathise  with  the  Roman  emperor  who 
quoted  '  after  me  the  Last  Day.'  The  emperor  only 
meant  that,  after  his  time,  he  did  not  care  how  soon 
earth  and  fire  were  mingled.  The  marquis,  on  the 
other  hand,  gave  the  impression  that,  he  once  out  of 
the  way,  he  ardently  desired  the  destruction  of  the 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     247 

whole  human  race.  He  was  not  known  ever  to  have 
consciously  benefited  man  or  woman.  He  screwed 
out  what  he  might  from  everybody  in  his  power,  and 
made  no  returns  which  the  law  did  not  exact ;  even 
these,  as  far  as  the  income  tax  went,  he  kept  at  the 
lowest  figure  possible. 

Such  was  the  distinguished  personage  whose  card 
was  handed  to  Merton  one  morning  at  the  office. 
There  had  been  no  previous  exchange  of  letters, 
according  to  the  rules  of  the  Society,  and  yet  Merton 
could  not  suppose  that  the  marquis  wished  to  see  him 
on  any  but  business  matters.  '  He  wants  to  put  a 
spoke  in  somebody's  wheel,'  thought  Merton,  '  but 
whose  ? ' 

He  hastily  scrawled  a  note  for  Logan,  who,  as 
usual,  was  late,  put  it  in  an  envelope,  and  sealed  it. 
He  wrote  :  '  On  no  account  come  in.  Explanation  later! 
Then  he  gave  the  note  to  the  office  boy,  impressed 
on  him  the  necessity  of  placing  it  in  Logan's  hands 
when  he  arrived,  and  told  the  boy  to  admit  the 
visitor. 

The  marquis  entered,  clad  in  rusty  black  not  unlike 
a  Scotch  peasant's  best  raiment  as  worn  at  funerals. 
He  held  a  dripping  umbrella ;  his  boots  were  muddy, 
his  trousers  had  their  frayed  ends  turned  up.  He 
wore  a  hard,  cruel  red  face,  v/ith  keen  grey  eyes 
beneath  penthouses  where  age  had  touched  the 
original  tawny  red  with  snow.  Merton,  bowing,  took 
the  umbrella  and  placed  it  in  a  stand. 

'  You  '11  not  have  any  snuft"? '  asked  the  marquis. 

Trevor  had  placed  a  few  enamelled  snuft'-boxes  of 
the  eighteenth  century  among  the  other  cosily  bibelots 


248  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

in  the  rooms,  and,  by  an  unusual  chance,  one  of  them 
actually  did  contain  what  the  marquis  wanted. 
Merton  opened  it  and  handed  it  to  the  peer,  who, 
after  trying  a  pinch  on  his  nostrils,  poured  a  quantity 
into  his  hand  and  thence  into  a  little  black  mull  made 
of  horn,  which  he  took  from  his  breast  pocket.  '  It's 
good,'  he  said.  *  Better  than  I  get  at  Kirkburn. 
You  '11  know  who  I  am?  '  His  accent  was  nearly  as 
broad  as  that  of  one  of  his  own  hinds,  and  he  some- 
times used  Scottish  words,  to  Merton's  perplexity. 

'  Every  one  has  heard  of  the  Marquis  of  Restalrig,' 
said  Merton. 

'  Ay,  and  little  to  his  good,  I  '11  be  bound?  ' 

'  I  do  not  listen  to  gossip,'  said  Merton,  '  I 
presume,  though  you  have  not  addressed  me  by 
letter,  that  your  visit  is  not  unconnected  with 
business?  ' 

'  No,  no,  no  letters  !  I  never  was  wasteful  in  postage 
stamps.  But  as  I  was  in  London,  to  see  the  doctor, 
for  the  Edinburgh  ones  can  make  nothing  of  the  case 
—  a  kind  of  dwawming  —  I  looked  in  at  auld  Nicky 
Maxwell's.  She  gave  me  a  good  character  of  you, 
and  she  is  one  to  lippen  to.  And  you  make  no 
charge  for  a  first  interview.' 

Merton  vaguely  conjectured  that  to  'Hppen'  implied 
some  sort  of  caress ;  however,  he  only  said  that  he 
was  obliged  to  Miss  Maxwell  for  her  kind  estimate  of 
his  firm. 

'  Gray  and  Graham,  good  Scots  names.  You  '11 
not  be  one  of  the  Grahams  of  Netherby,  though?' 

'  The  name  of  the  firm  is  merely  conventional,  a 
trading  title,'  said  Merton ;  '  if  you  want  to  know  my 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     249 

name,  there  it  is,'  and  he  handed  his  card  to  the 
marquis,  who  stared  at  it,  and  (apparently  from 
motiveless  acquisitiveness)  put  it  into  his  pocket. 

'  I  don't  like  an  alias,'  he  said.  *  But  it  seems  you 
are  to  lippen  to.' 

From  the  context  Merton  now  understood  that  the 
marquis  probably  wished  to  signify  that  he  was  to  be 
trusted.  So  he  bowed,  and  expressed  a  hope  that  he 
was  '  all  that  could  be  desired  in  the  lippening  way.' 

'You're  laughing  at  my  Doric?'  asked  the  noble- 
man. '  Well,  in  the  only  important  way,  it 's  not  at 
my  expense.  Ha !  Ha ! '  He  shook  a  lumbering 
laugh  out  of  himself, 

Merton  smiled  —  and  was  bored. 

'  I  'm  come  about  stopping  a  marriage,'  said  the 
marquis,  at  last  arriving  at  business. 

'  My  experience  is  at  your  service,'  said  Merton. 

'Well,'  went  on  the  marquis,  'ours  is  an  old  name.' 

Merton  remarked  that,  in  the  course  of  historical 
study,  he  had  made  himself  acquainted  with  the 
achievements  of  the  house. 

'Auld  warld  tales!  But  I  wish  I  could  tell  where 
the  treasure  is  that  wily  auld  Logan  quarrelled  over 
with  the  wizard  Laird  of  Merchistoun.  Logan  would 
not  implement  the  contract  —  half  profits.  But  my 
wits  are  wool  gathering.' 

He  began  to  wander  round  the  room,  looking  at 
the  mezzotints.  He  stopped  in  front  of  one  portrait, 
and  said  '  My  Aunt !  '  Merton  took  this  for  an  ex- 
clamation of  astonishment,  but  later  found  that  the 
lady  (after  Lawrence)  really  had  been  the  great  aunt 
of  the  marquis. 


250  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Merton  conceived  that  the  wits  of  his  visitor  were 
worse  than  '  wool  gathering,'  that  he  had  '  softening 
of  the  brain.'  But  circumstances  presently  indicated 
that  Lord  Restalrig  was  actually  sufifering  from  a 
much  less  common  disorder  —  softening  of  the  heart. 
He  returned  to  his  seat,  and  helped  himself  to 
snuff  out  of  the  enamelled  gold  box,  on  which  Mer- 
ton deemed  it  politic  to  keep  a  watchful  eye. 

'Man,  I'm  sweir'  (reluctant)  'to  come  to  the 
point,'  said  Lord  Restalrig. 

Merton  erroneously  understood  him  to  mean  that 
he  was  under  oath  or  vow  to  come  to  the  point,  and 
showed  a  face  of  attention. 

'  I  'm  not  the  man  I  was.  The  doctors  don't  under- 
stand my  case  —  they  take  awful  fees  —  but  I  see  they 
think  ill  of  it.  And  that  sets  a  body  thinking.  Have 
you  a  taste  of  brandy  in  the  house?' 

As  the  visitor's  weather-beaten  ruddiness  had 
changed  to  a  ghastly  ashen  hue,  rather  bordering  on 
the  azure,  Merton  set  forth  the  liqueur  case,  and  drew 
a  bottle  of  soda  water. 

'No  water,'  said  the  peer;  *  it's  just  ma  twal'  ours, 
an  auld  Scotch  fashion,'  and  he  took  without  winking 
an  orthodox  dram  of  brandy.  Then  he  looked  at  the 
silver  tops  of  the  flasks. 

'  A  good  coat !  '  he  said.     *  Yours?  ' 
Merton  nodded. 

'Ye  quarter  the  Douglas  Heart.  A  good  coat. 
Dod,  I  '11  speak  plain.  The  name,  Mr.  Merton,  when 
ye  come  to  the  end  o'  the  furrow,  the  name  is  all  ye 
have  left.  We  brought  nothing  into  the  world  but 
the  name,  we  take  out  nothing  else.     A  sore  dispen- 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     251 

sation.  I  'm  not  the  man  I  was,  not  this  two  years. 
I  must  dispone,  I  know  it  well.  Now  the  name,  that 
I  thought  that  I  cared  not  an  empty  whistle  for,  is 
worn  to  a  rag,  but  I  cannot  leave  it  in  the  mire. 
There  's  just  one  that  bears  it,  one  Logan  by  name, 
and  true  Logan  by  the  mother's  blood.  The  mother's 
mother,  my  cousin,  was  a  bonny  lass.' 

He  paused ;  his  enfeebled  memory  was  wandering, 
no  doubt,  in  scenes  more  vivid  to  him  than  those  of 
yesterday. 

Merton  was  now  attentive  indeed.  The  miserly 
marquis  had  become,  to  him,  something  other  than  a 
curious  survival  of  times  past.  There  was  a  chance 
for  Logan,  his  friend,  the  last  of  the  name,  but  Logan 
was  firmly  affianced  to  Miss  Markham,  of  the  cloak 
department  at  Madame  Claudine's.  And  the  marquis, 
as  he  said,  '  had  come  about  stopping  a  marriage,' 
and  Merton  was  to  help  him  in  stopping  it,  in  disen- 
tangling Logan ! 

The  old  man  aroused  himself.  '  I  have  never  seen 
the  lad  but  once,  when  he  was  a  bairn.  But  I've 
kept  eyes  on  him.  He  has  nothing,  and  since  I  came 
to  London  I  hear  that  he  has  gone  gyte,  I  mean  — 
ye '11  not  understand  me — he  is  plighted  to  a  long- 
legged  shop-lass,  the  daughter  of  a  ne'er-do-well 
Australian  land-louper,  a  doctor.  This  must  not  be. 
Nov;  I  '11  speak  plain  to  you,  plainer  than  to  Tod  and 
Brock,  my  doers — ye  call  them  lawyers.  77/^j/ did 
not  make  my  will.* 

Merton  prevented  himself,  by  an  effort,  from  gasp- 
ing. He  kept  a  countenance  of  cold  attention.  But 
the  marquis  was  coming  to  the  point. 


252  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  have  left  all  to  the  name,  lands  and  rents,  and 
mines,  and  money.  But,  unless  the  lad  marries  in 
his  own  rank,  I  '11  change  my  will.  It's  in  the  hidie 
hole  at  Kirkburn,  that  Logan  built  to  keep  King 
Jamie  in,  when  he  caught  him.  But  the  fool  Ruth- 
vens  marred  that  job,  and  got  their  kail  through  the 
reek.  I  'm  wandering,'  He  helped  himself  to  another 
dram,  and  went  on,  '  Ye  see  what  I  want,  ye  must 
stop  that  marriage.' 

'  But,'  said  Merton,  '  as  you  are  so  kindly  disposed 
towards  your  kinsman,  this  Mr.  Logan,  may  I  ask 
whether  it  would  not  be  wise  to  address  him  yourself, 
as  the  head  of  his  house  ?  He  may,  surely  he  will, 
listen  to  your  objections.' 

'  Ye  do  not  know  the  Logans.' 

Merton  concealed  his  smile. 

•  Camstairy  deevils  !  It 's  in  the  blood.  Never 
once  has  he  asked  me  for  a  pound,  never  noticed  me 
by  word  or  letter.  Faith,  I  wish  all  the  world  had 
been  as  considerate  to  auld  Restalrig !  For  me  to 
say  a  word,  let  be  to  make  an  offer,  would  just  tie  him 
faster  to  the  lass.  "  Tyne  troth,  tyne  a',"  that  is  the 
old  bye-word.' 

Merton  recognised  his  friend  in  this  description, 
but  he  merely  shook  a  sympathetic  head.  *  Very 
unusual,'  he  remarked.  'You  really  have  no  hope 
by  this  method  ?  ' 

*  None  at  all,  or  I  would  not  be  here  on  this  daft 
ploy.  There  's  no  fool  like  an  auld  fool,  and,  faith,  I 
hardly  know  the  man  I  was.  But  they  cannot  dis- 
pute the  will.  I  drew  doctors  to  witness  that  I  was 
of  sound  and  disponing  mind,  and  I  've  since  been 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     253 

thrice  to  kirk  and  market.  Lord,  how  they  stared 
to  see  auld  Restalrig  in  his  pew,  that  had  not  smelt 
appleringie  these  forty  years.' 

Merton  noted  these  words,  which  he  thought  cur- 
ious and  obscure.  '  Your  case  interests  me  deeply,' 
he  said,  '  and  shall  receive  my  very  best  attention. 
You  perceive,  of  course,  that  it  is  a  difficult  case, 
Mr.  Logan's  character  and  tenacity  being  what  you 
describe.  I  must  make  careful  inquiries,  and  shall 
inform  you  of  progress.  You  wish  to  see  this  engage- 
ment ended?' 

'  And  the  lad  on  with  a  lass  of  his  rank,'  said  the 
marquis. 

'  Probably  that  will  follow  quickly  on  the  close  of 
his  present  affection.  It  usually  does  in  our  exper- 
ience,' said  Merton,  adding,  '  Am  I  to  write  to  you  at 
your  London  address? ' 

'  No,  sir ;  these  London  hotels  would  ruin  the 
cunzie'  (the  Mint). 

Merton  wondered  whether  the  Cunzie  was  the  title 
of  some  wealthy  Scotch  peer. 

'  And  I  'm  off  for  Kirkburn  by  the  night  express. 
Here  's  wishing  luck,'  and  the  old  sinner  finished  the 
brandy. 

'  May  I  call  a  cab  for  you  — it  still  rains? ' 

'  No,  no,  I  '11  travel,'  by  which  the  economical  peer 
meant  that  he  would  walk. 

He  then  shook  Merton  by  the  hand,  and  hobbled 
downstairs  attended  by  his  adviser. 

•  Did  Mr.  Logan  call  ? '  Merton  asked  the  office 
boy  when  the  marquis  had  trotted  offi 

'Yes,  sir;  he  said  you  would  find  him  at  the  club.' 


254  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Call  a  hansom,'  said  Merton,  '  and  put  up  the 
notice,  "  out." '  He  drove  to  the  club,  where  he 
found  Logan  ordering  luncheon. 

'  Hullo,  shall  we  lunch  together?'  Logan  asked. 

'  Not  yet :   I  want  to  speak  to  you.' 

'  Nothing  gone  wrong?  Why  did  you  shut  me  out 
of  the  office? ' 

*  Where  can  we  talk  without  being  disturbed  ?  ' 

'  Try  the  smoking-room  on  the  top  storey,'  said 
Logan,  '  Nobody  will  have  climbed  so  high  so 
early.' 

They  made  the  ascent,  and  found  the  room  vacant : 
the  windows  looked  out  over  swirling  smoke  and  trees 
tossing  in  a  wind  of  early  spring. 

'  Quiet  enough,'  said  Logan,  taking  an  arm-chair. 
'  Now  out  with  it !     You  make  me  quite  nervous.' 

'  A  client  has  come  with  what  looks  a  promising 
piece  of  business.     We  are  to  disentangle ' 

'  A  royal  duke  ?  ' 

'  No.      You  ! ' 

'  A  practical  joke,'  said  Logan.  '  Somebody  pull- 
ing your  leg,  as  people  say,  a  most  idiotic  way  of 
speaking.  What  sort  of  cHent  was  he,  or  she  ? 
We  '11  be  even  with  them.' 

'  The  client's  card  is  here,*  said  Merton,  and  he 
handed  to  Logan  that  of  the  Marquis  of  Restalrig. 

'  You  never  saw  him  before ;  are  you  sure  it  was 
the  man?'  asked  Logan,  staggered  in  his  scepticism. 

'  A  very  good  imitation.  Dressed  like  a  farmer  at 
a  funeral.  Talked  like  all  the  kailyards.  Snuffed, 
and  asked  for  brandy,  and  went  and  came,  walking, 
in  this  weather.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY    MARQUIS     255 

'  By  Jove,  it  is  my  venerated  cousin.  And  he  had 
heard  about  me  and  Miss ' 

'  He  was  quite  well  informed.' 

Logan  looked  very  grave.  He  rose  and  stared  out 
of  the  window  into  the  mist.  Then  he  came  back, 
and  stood  beside  Merton's  chair.  He  spoke  in  a  low 
voice : 

'  This  can  only  mean  one  thing.' 

'Only  that  one  thing,'  said  Merton,  dropping  his 
own  voice. 

'  What  did  you  say  to  him  ?  ' 

'  I  told  him  that  his  best  plan,  as  the  head  of  the 
house,  was  to  approach  you  himself 

'  And  he  said?  ' 

'  That  it  was  of  no  use,  and  that  I  do  not  know  the 
Logans.' 

'But  you  do?' 

'  I  think  so.' 

*  You  think  right.  No,  not  for  all  his  lands  and 
mines  I  won't.' 

'  Not  for  the  name  ?  ' 

'  Not  for  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,'  said  Logan.  ^ 

'  It  is  a  great  refusal.' 

'  I  have  really  no  temptation  to  accept,'  said  Logan. 
'  I  am  not  built  that  way.  So  what  next?  If  the 
old  boy  could  only  see  her ' 

'  I  doubt  if  that  would  do  any  good,  though,  of 
course,  if  I  were  you  I  should  think  so.  He  goes 
north  to-night.  You  can't  take  the  lady  to  Kirkburn. 
And  you  can't  write  to  him.' 

'  Of  course  not,'  said  Logan ;  '  of  course  it  would 
be  all  up  if  he  knew  that  I  know.' 


2S6  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

'  There  is  this  to  be  said  —  it  is  not  a  very  pleasant 
view  to  take  —  he  can't  live  long.  He  came  to  see 
some  London  specialist  — it  is  his  heart,  I  think ' 

'  His  heart ! 

How  Fortune  aristophanises 
And  how  severe  the  fun  of  Fate ! ' 

quoted  Logan. 

'  The  odd  thing  is,'  said  Merton,  '  that  I  do  believe 
he  has  a  heart.  I  rather  like  him.  At  all  events,  I 
think,  from  what  I  saw,  that  a  sudden  start  might  set 
him  off  at  any  moment,  or  an  unusual  exertion.  And 
he  may  go  off  before  I  tell  him  that  I  can  do  nothing 
with  you ' 

'  Oh,  hang  that,'  said  Logan,  '  you  make  me  feel 
like  a  beastly  assassin ! ' 

'  I  only  want  you  to  understand  how  the  land  lies.' 
Merton  dropped  his  voice  again,  '  He  has  made  a  will 
leaving  you  everything.' 

'  Poor  old  cock  !  Look  here,  I  believe  I  had  better 
write,  and  say  that  I  'm  awfully  touched  and  obliged, 
but  that  I  can't  come  into  his  views,  or  break  my 
word,  and  then,  you  know,  he  can  just  make  another 
will.  It  would  be  a  swindle  to  let  him  die,  and  come 
into  his  property,  and  then  go  dead  against  his 
wishes.' 

*  But  it  would  be  all  right  to  give  me  away,  I 
suppose,  and  let  him  understand  that  I  had  violated 
professional  confidence?' 

*  Only  with  a  member  of  the  firm.  That  is  no 
violation.' 

'  But  then  I  should  have  told  him  that  you  were  a 
member  of  the  firm.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     257 

'  I  'm  afraid  you  should.' 

'  Logan,  you  have  the  ideas  of  a  schoolboy.  I  had 
to  be  certain  as  to  how  you  would  take  it,  though,  of 
course,  I  had  a  very  good  guess.  And  as  to  what 
you  say  about  the  chances  of  his  dying  and  leaving 
everything  where  he  would  not  have  left  it  if  he  had 
been  sure  you  would  act  against  his  wishes  —  I  believe 
you  are  wrong.  What  he  really  cares  about  is  "  the 
name."  His  ghost  will  put  up  with  your  disobedience 
if  the  name  keeps  its  old  place.     Do  you  see?  ' 

'  Perhaps  you  are  right,'  said  Logan. 

'  Anyhow,  there  is  no  such  pressing  hurry.  One 
may  bring  him  round  with  time.  A  curious  old  sur- 
vival !  I  did  not  understand  all  that  he  said.  There 
was  something  about  having  been  thrice  at  kirk  and 
market  since  he  made  his  will ;  and  something  about 
not  having  smelled  appleringie  for  forty  years.  What 
is  appleringie? ' 

Logan  laughed. 

'It  is  a  sacred  Presbyterian  herb.  The  people 
keep  it  in  their  Bibles  and  it  perfumes  the  churches. 
But  look  here ' 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  a  page,  who 
handed  to  him  a  letter.  Logan  read  it  and  laughed. 
'  I  knew  it;  they  are  sharp  !  '  he  said,  and  handed  the 
letter  to  Merton.  It  was  from  a  famous,  or  infamous, 
money-lender,  offering  princely  accommodation  on 
terms  which  Mr.  Logan  would  find  easy  and 
reasonable. 

'They  have  nosed  the  appleringie,  you  see,'  he 
said. 

'  But  I  don't  see,'  said  Merton. 
17 


258  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Why  the  hounds  have  heard  that  the  old  nobleman 
has  been  thrice  to  kirk  lately.  And  as  he  had  not 
been  there  for  forty  years,  they  have  guessed  that  he 
has  been  making  his  vi^ill.  Scots  law  has,  or  used  to 
have,  something  in  it  about  going  thrice  to  kirk  and 
market  after  making  a  will  —  disponing  they  call  it— 
as  a  proof  of  bodily  and  mental  soundness.  So  they 
have  spotted  the  marquis's  pious  motives  for  kirk- 
going,  and  guessed  that  I  am  his  heir.     I  say ' 

Logan  began  to  laugh  wildly. 

'What  do  you  say?'  asked  Merton,  but  Logan 
went  on  hooting. 

'  I  say,'  he  repeated,  '  it  must  never  be  known  that 
the  old  lord  came  to  consult  us,'  and  here  he  was 
again  convulsed. 

•Of  course  not,'  said  Merton.     'But  where  is  the 

joke?' 

'  Why,  don't  you  see  —  oh,  it  is  too  good  —  he  has 
taken  every  kind  of  precaution  to  establish  his  sanity 
when  he  made  his  will.' 

'  He  told  me  that  he  had  got  expert  evidence,'  said 
Merton. 

'And  then  he  comes  and  consults  US  ! '  said  Logan, 
with  a  crow  of  laughter.  '  If  any  fellow  wants  to  break 
the  will  on  the  score  of  insanity,  and  knows,  knows  he 
came  to  us,  a  jury,  when  they  find  he  consulted  us, 
will  jolly  well  upset  the  cart.' 

Merton  was  hurt. 

'  Logan,'  he  said,  '  it  is  you  who  ought  to  be  in  an 
asylum,  an  Asylum  for  Incurable  Children.  Don't 
you  see  that  he  made  the  will  long  before  he  took  the 
very  natural  and  proper  step  of  consulting  Messrs. 
Gray  and  Graham  ?  ' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY    MARQUIS     259 

'  Let  us  pray  that,  if  there  is  a  suit,  it  won't  come 
before  a  Scotch  jury,'  said  Logan.  '  Anyhow,  no- 
body knows  that  he  came  except  you  and  me.' 

'  And  the  office  boy,'  said  Merton. 

*  Oh,  we'll  square  the  office  boy,'  said  Logan. 
'  Let 's  lunch  !  ' 

They  lunched,  and  Logan,  as  was  natural,  though 
Merton  urged  him  to  abstain,  hung  about  the  doors 
of  Madame  Claudine's  emporium  at  the  hour  when 
the  young  ladies  returned  to  their  homes.  He  walked 
home  with  Miss  Markham.  He  told  her  about  his 
chances,  and  his  views,  and  no  doubt  she  did  not 
think  him  a  person  of  schoolboy  ideas,  but  a  Bayard. 

Two  days  passed,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third 
a  telegram  arrived  for  Logan  from  Kirkburn. 

'  Come  at  once.  Marquis  very  ill.  Dr.  Douglas, 
Kirkburn.' 

There  was  no  express  train  North  till  8.45  in  the 
evening.  Merton  dined  with  Logan  at  King's  Cross, 
and  saw  him  offi  He  would  reach  his  cousin's  house 
at  about  six  in  the  morning  if  the  train  kept  time. 

About  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  following 
Logan's  arrival  at  Kirkburn  Merton  was  awakened : 
the  servant  handed  to  him  a  telegram. 

'  Come  insta7itly.  Highly  important.  Logan,  Kirk- 
burn' 

Merton  dressed  himself  more  rapidly  than  he  had 
ever  done,  and  caught  the  train  leaving  King's  Cross 
at  10  A.M. 


26o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 


//.   The  Emu's  Feathers 

The  landscape  through  which  Merton  passed  on 
his  northward  way  to  Kirkburn,  whither  Logan  had 
summoned  him,  was  blank  with  snow.  The  snow 
was  not  more  than  a  couple  of  inches  deep  where  it 
had  not  drifted,  and,  as  frost  had  set  in,  it  was  not 
likely  to  deepen.  There  was  no  fear  of  being  snowed 
up. 

Merton  naturally  passed  a  good  deal  of  his  time  in 
wondering  what  had  occurred  at  Kirkburn,  and  why 
Logan  needed  his  presence.  '  The  poor  old  gentle- 
man has  passed  away  suddenly,  I  suppose,'  he  re- 
flected, '  and  Logan  may  think  that  I  know  where  he 
has  deposited  his  will.  It  is  in  some  place  that  the 
marquis  called  "  the  hidie  hole,"  and  that,  from  his 
vagrant  remarks,  appears  to  be  a  secret  chamber,  as 
his  ancestor  meant  to  keep  James  VL  there.  I  wish 
he  had  cut  the  throat  of  that  prince,  a  bad  fellow. 
But,  of  course,  I  don't  know  where  the  chamber  is : 
probably  some  of  the  people  about  the  place  know, 
or  the  lawyer  who  made  the  will.* 

However  freely  Merton's  consciousness  might  play 
round  the  problem,  he  could  get  no  nearer  to  its  solu- 
tion. At  Berwick  he  had  to  leave  the  express,  and 
take  a  local  train.  In  the  station,  not  a  nice  station, 
he  was  accosted  by  a  stranger,  who  asked  if  he  was 
Mr.  Merton?  The  stranger,  a  wholesome,  red-faced, 
black-haired  man,  on  being  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, introduced  himself  as  Dr.  Douglas,  of  Kirkburn. 

'  You  telegraphed  to  my  friend  Logan  the  news  of 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     261 

the  marquis's  illness,'  said  Merton,  '  I  fear  you  have 
no  better  news  to  give  me.' 

Dr.  Douglas  shook  his  head. 

A  curious  little  crowd  was  watching  the  pair  from 
a  short  distance.  There  was  an  air  of  solemnity  about 
the  people,  which  was  not  wholly  due  to  the  chill  grey 
late  afternoon,  and  the  melancholy  sea. 

'  We  have  an  hour  to  wait,  Mr.  Merton,  before  the 
local  train  starts,  and  afterwards  there  is  a  bit  of  a 
drive.  It  is  cold,  we  would  be  as  well  in  the  inn  as 
here.' 

The  doctor  beat  his  gloved  hands  together  to  re- 
store the  circulation. 

Merton  saw  that  the  doctor  wished  to  be  with  him 
in  private,  and  the  two  walked  down  into  the  town, 
where  they  got  a  comfortable  room,  the  doctor  order- 
ing boiling  water  and  the  other  elements  of  what  he 
called  '  a  cheerer.'  When  the  cups  which  cheer  had 
been  brought,  and  the  men  were  alone,  the  doctor 
said : 

'  It  is  as  you  suppose,  Mr.  Merton,  but  worse.' 

'  Great  heaven,  no  accident  has  happened  to 
Logan?'  asked  Merton. 

'  No,  sir,  and  he  would  have  met  you  himself  at 
Berwick,  but  he  is  engaged  in  making  inquiries  and 
taking  precautions  at  Kirkburn.' 

'  You  do  not  mean  that  there  is  any  reason  to  sus- 
pect foul  play?  The  marquis,  I  know,  was  in  bad 
health.     You  do  not  suspect  —  murder? ' 

'No,  sir,  but — the  marquis  is  gone.' 

*  I  know  he  is  gone,  your  telegram  and  what  I 
observed  of  his  health  led  me  to  fear  the  worst.' 


262  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

'  But  his  body  is  gone  —  vanished.' 
'  You  suppose  that  it  has  been  stolen  (you  know  the 
American  and  other  cases  of  the  same  kind)  for  the 
purpose  of  extracting  money  from  the  heir?' 

'  That  is  the  obvious  view,  whoever  the  heir  may 
be.  So  far,  no  will  has  been  found,'  the  doctor  added 
some  sugar  to  his  cheerer,  and  some  whisky  to  correct 
the  sugar.  '  The  neighbourhood  is  very  much  ex- 
cited. Mr.  Logan  has  telegraphed  to  London  for 
detectives.' 

Merton  reflected  in  silence. 

'  The  obvious  view  is  not  always  the  correct  one/ 
he  said.  '  The  marquis  was,  at  least  I  thought  that 
he  was,  a  very  eccentric  person.' 

'  No  doubt  about  that'  said  the  doctor. 
'Very  well.  He  had  reasons,  such  reasons  as 
might  occur  to  a  mind  like  his,  for  wanting  to  test  the 
character  and  conduct  of  Mr.  Logan,  his  only  living 
kinsman.  What  I  am  going  to  say  will  seem  absurd  to 
you,  but  —  the  marquis  spoke  to  me  of  his  malady  as 
a  kind  of"  dwawming,"  I  did  not  know  what  he  meant, 
at  the  time,  but  yesterday  I  consulted  the  glossary  of 
a  Scotch  novel :  to  dwawm,  I  think,  is  to  lose  con- 
sciousness?' 

The  doctor  nodded. 

'Now  you  have  read,'  said  Merton,  '  the  case  pub- 
lished by  Dr.  Cheyne,  of  a  gentleman,  Colonel  Town- 
send,  who  could  voluntarily  produce  a  state  of 
"  dwawm "  which  was  not  then  to  be  distinguished 
from  death  ?  ' 

'  I  have  read  it  in  the  notes  to  Aytoun's  Scottish 
Cavaliers,'  said  the  doctor. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     263 

'  Now,  then,  suppose  that  the  marquis,  waking  out 
of  such  a  state,  whether  voluntarily  induced  (which 
is  very  improbable)  or  not,  thought  fit  to  withdraw 
himself,  for  the  purpose  of  secretly  watching,  from 
some  retreat,  the  behaviour  of  his  heir,  if  he  has  made 
Mr.  Logan  his  heir?  Is  that  hypothesis  absolutely 
out  of  keeping  with  his  curious  character?' 

'  No.  It 's  crazy  enough,  if  you  will  excuse  me, 
but,  for  these  last  few  weeks,  at  any  rate,  I  would 
have  swithered  about  signing  a  fresh  certificate  to 
the  marquis's  sanity.' 

'  You  did,  perhaps,  sign  one  when  he  made  his  will, 
as  he  told  me  ?  ' 

'  I,  and  Dr.  Gourlay,  and  Professor  Grant,'  the 
doctor  named  two  celebrated  Edinburgh  specialists. 
'  But  just  of  late  I  would  not  be  so  certain.' 

'Then  my  theory  need  not  necessarily  be  wrong?' 

'  It  can't  but  be  wrong.     First,  I  saw  the  man  dead.' 

'  Absolute  tests  of  death  are  hardly  to  be  procured, 
of  course  you  know  that  better  than  I  do,'  said 
Merton. 

'  Yes,  but  I  am  positive,  or  as  positive  as  one  can 
be,  in  the  circumstances.  However,  that  is  not  what  I 
stand  on.     There  was  a  witness  who  saw  the  marquis 

'  Go  —  how  did  he  go  ?  ' 

'  He  disappeared.' 

'  The  body  disappeared  ?  ' 

'  It  did,  but  you  had  better  hear  the  witness's  own 
account;  I  don't  think  a  second-hand  story  will  con- 
vince you,  especially  as  you  have  a  theory.' 

'  Was  the  witness  a  man  or  a  woman  ? ' 


264  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  A  woman,'  said  the  doctor. 

'  Oh ! '  said  Merton. 

'  I  know  what  you  mean,'  said  the  doctor.  *  You 
think,  it  suits  your  theory,  that  the  marquis  came  to 
himself  and ' 

'  And  squared  the  female  watcher,'  interrupted 
Merton ;  '  she  would  assist  him  in  his  crazy  stratagem.' 

'  Mr.  Merton,  you  've  read  ower  many  novels,'  said 
the  doctor,  lapsing  into  the  vernacular.  *  Well,  your 
notion  is  not  unthinkable,  nor  pheesically  impossible. 
She  's  a  queer  one,  Jean  Bower,  that  waked  the  corpse, 
sure  enough.  However,  you  '11  soon  be  on  the  spot, 
and  can  examine  the  case  for  yourself.  Mr.  Logan 
has  no  idea  but  that  the  body  was  stolen  for  purposes 
of  black-mail.'  He  looked  at  his  watch.  *  We  must 
be  going  to  catch  the  train,  if  she  's  anything  like 
punctual.' 

The  pair  walked  in  silence  to  the  station,  were  again 
watched  curiously  by  the  public  (who  appeared  to 
treat  the  station  as  a  club),  and  after  three-quarters 
of  an  hour  of  slow  motion  and  stoppages,  arrived  at 
their  destination,  Drem. 

The  doctor's  own  man  with  a  dog-cart  was  in 
waiting. 

'  The  marquis  had  neither  machine  nor  horse,'  the 
doctor  explained. 

Through  the  bleak  late  twilight  they  were  driven, 
past  two  or  three  squalid  mining  villages,  along  a 
road  where  the  ruts  showed  black  as  coal  through 
the  freezing  snow.  Out  of  one  village,  the  lights 
twinkling  in  the  windows,  they  turned  up  a  steep  road, 
which,  after  a  couple  of  hundred  yards,  brought  them 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY  MARQUIS     265 

to  the  old  stone  gate  posts,  surmounted  by  heraldic 
animals. 

'  The  late  marquis  sold  the  worked-iron  gates  to  a 
dealer,'  said  the  doctor. 

At  the  avenue  gates,  so  steep  was  the  ascent,  both 
men  got  out  and  walked. 

'You  see  the  pits  come  up  close  to  the  house,'  said 
the  doctor,  as  they  reached  the  crest.  He  pointed 
to  some  tall  chimneys  on  the  eastern  slope,  which 
sank  quite  gradually  to  the  neighbouring  German 
Ocean,  but  ended  in  an  abrupt  rocky  cliff. 

'Is  that  a  fishing  village  in  the  cleft  of  the  cliffs? 
I  think  I  see  a  red  roof,'  said  Merton. 

'  Ay,  that 's  Strutherwick,  a  fishing  village,'  replied 
the  doctor. 

'A  very  easy  place,  on  your  theory,  for  an  escape 
with  the  body  by  boat,'  said  Merton. 

'  Ay,  that  is  just  it,'  acquiesced  the  doctor. 

'  But,'  asked  Merton,  as  they  reached  the  level,  and 
saw  the  old  keep  black  in  front  of  them, '  what  is  that 
rope  stretched  about  the  lawn  for?  It  seems  to  go 
all  round  the  house,  and  there  are  watchers.'  Dark 
figures  with  lanterns  were  visible  at  intervals,  as  Mer- 
ton peered  into  the  gathering  gloom.  The  watchers 
paced  to  and  fro  like  sentinels. 

The  door  of  the  house  opened,  and  a  man's  figure 
stood  out  against  the  lamp  light  within. 

'Is  that  you,  Merton?'  came  Logan's  voice  from 
the  doorway. 

Merton  answered ;  and  the  doctor  remarked,  '  Mr. 
Logan  will  tell  you  what  the  rope 's  for.' 

The  friends  shook  hands;   the  doctor,  having  de- 


2  66  THE   DISENT ANGLERS 

posited  Merton's  baggage,  pleaded  an  engagement, 
and  said  '  Good-bye,'  among  the  thanks  of  Logan. 
An  old  man,  a  kind  of  silent  Caleb  Balderstone,  car- 
ried Merton's  light  luggage  up  a  black  turnpike  stair. 

'  I  've  put  you  in  the  turret;  it  is  the  least  dilapi- 
dated room,'  said  Logan.     '  Now,  come  in  here.' 

He  led  the  way  into  a  hall  on  the  ground-floor. 
A  great  fire  in  the  ancient  hearth,  with  its  heavy 
heraldically  carved  stone  chimney-piece,  Ht  up  the 
desolation  of  the  chamber. 

'  Sit  down  and  warm  yourself,'  said  Logan,  pushing 
forward  a  ponderous  oaken  chair,  with  a  high  back 
and  short  arms. 

'  I  know  a  good  deal,'  said  Merton,  his  curiosity 
hurrying  him  to  the  point ;  '  but  first,  Logan,  what 
is  the  rope  on  the  stakes  driven  in  round  the  house 
for?' 

'  That  was  my  first  precaution,'  said  Logan.  '  I 
heard  of  the  —  of  what  has  happened  —  about  four 
in  the  morning,  and  I  instantly  knocked  in  the  stakes 
—  hard  work  with  the  frozen  ground  —  and  drew  the 
rope  along,  to  isolate  the  snow  about  the  house. 
When  I  had  done  that,  I  searched  the  snow  for  foot- 
marks.' 

'When  had  the  snow  begun  to  fall?' 

'  About  midnight.  I  turned  out  then  to  look  at  the 
night  before  going  to  bed.' 

'  And  there  was  nothing  wrong  then?  ' 

'  He  lay  on  his  bed  in  the  laird's  chamber.  I  had 
just  left  it.  I  left  him  with  the  watcher  of  the  dead. 
There  was  a  plate  of  salt  on  his  breast.  The  house- 
keeper, Mrs.  Bower,  keeps  up  the  old  ways.     Candles 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     267 

were  burning  all  round  the  bed.  A  fearful  waste  he 
would  have  thought  it,  poor  old  man.  The  devils ! 
If  I  could  get  on  their  track  !  '  said  Logan,  clenching 
his  fist. 

'  You  have  found  no  tracks,  then?  ' 

'  None.  When  I  examined  the  snow  there  was  not 
a  footmark  on  the  roads  to  the  back  door  or  the  front 
—  not  a  footmark  on  the  whole  area.' 

'  Then  the  removal  of  the  body  from  the  bedroom 
was  done  from  within.  Probably  the  body  is  still  in 
the  house.' 

'  Certainly  it  has  been  taken  out  by  no  known  exit, 
if  it  has  been  taken  out,  as  I  believe.  I  at  once  ar- 
ranged relays  of  sentinels — men  from  the  coal-pits. 
But  the  body  is  gone  ;  I  am  certain  of  it.  A  fishing- 
boat  went  out  from  the  village,  Strutherwick,  before 
the  dawn.  It  came  into  the  little  harbour  after  mid- 
night—  some  night-wandering  lover  saw  it  enter  — 
and  it  must  have  sailed  again  before  dawn.' 

'Did  you  examine  the  snow  near  the  harbour?' 

'  I  could  not  be  everywhere  at  once,  and  I  was  single- 
handed;  but  I  sent  down  the  old  serving-man,  John 
Bower.  He  is  stupid  enough,  but  I  gave  him  a  note 
to  any  fisherman  he  might  meet.  Of  course  these 
people  are  not  detectives.' 

'  And  was  there  any  result?  ' 

'  Yes ;  an  odd  one.  But  it  confirms  the  obvious 
theory  of  body-snatching.  Of  course,  fishers  are  early 
risers,  and  they  went  trampling  about  confusedly.  But 
they  did  find  curious  tracks.  We  have  isolated  some 
of  them,  and  even  managed  to  carry  off  a  couple. 
We  dug  round  them,  and  lifted  them.     A  neighbour- 


268  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ing  laird,  Mr.  Maitland,  lent  his  ice-house  for  storing 
these,  and  I  had  one  laid  down  on  the  north  side  of 
this  house  to  show  you,  if  the  frost  held.  No  ice- 
house or  refrigerator  here,  of  course.' 

'  Let  me  see  it  now,' 

Logan  took  a  lighted  candle  —  the  night  was  frosty, 
without  a  wind  —  and  led  Merton  out  under  the  black, 
ivy-clad  walls.  Merton  threw  his  greatcoat  on  the 
snow  and  knelt  on  it,  peering  at  the  object.  He  saw 
a  large  flat  clod  of  snow  and  earth.  On  its  surface 
was  the  faint  impress  of  a  long  oval,  longer  than  the 
human  foot;  feathery  marks  running  in  both  direc- 
tions from  the  centre  could  be  descried.  Looking 
closer,  Merton  detected  here  and  there  a  tiny  feather 
and  a  flock  or  two  of  down  adhering  to  the  frozen 
mass. 

'May  I  remove  some  of  these  feathery  things?' 
Merton  asked. 

'  Certainly,     But  why  ?  ' 

'  We  can't  carry  the  clod  indoors,  it  would  melt ; 
and  it  may  melt  if  the  weather  changes ;  and  by  bad 
luck  there  may  be  no  feathers  or  down  adhering  to 
the  other  clods — those  in  the  laird's  ice-house.' 

'  You  think  you  have  a  clue?  ' 

'  I  think,'  said  Merton,  *  that  these  are  emu's 
feathers ;  but,  whether  they  are  or  not,  they  look  like 
a  clue.     Still,  I  think  they  are  emu's  feathers.' 

'  Why?     The  emu  is  not  an  indigenous  bird,' 

As  he  spoke,  an  idea — several  ideas  —  flashed  on 
Merton.  He  wished  that  he  had  held  his  peace.  He 
put  the  little  shreds  into  his  pocket-book,  rose,  and 
donned  his  greatcoat.     '  How  cold    it  is  ! '  he  said. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     269 

'  Logan,  would  you  mind  very  much  if  I  said  no  more 
just  now  about  the  feathers?     I  really  have  a  notion 

—  which  may  be  a  good  one,  or  may  be  a  silly  one 

—  and,  absurd  as  it  appears,  you  will  seriously  oblige 
me  by  letting  me  keep  my  own  counsel.' 

'  It  is  damned  awkward,'  said  Logan  testily. 
'  Ah,  old  boy,  but  remember  that  "  damned  awk- 
ward "  is  a  damned  awkward  expression.' 

*  You  are  right,' said  Logan  heartily;  '  but  I  rose 
very  early,  I'm  very  tired,  I  'm  rather  savage.  Let 's 
go  in  and  dine.' 

'  All  right,'  said  Merton. 

'  I  don't  think,'  said  Logan,  as  they  were  entering 
the  house,  '  that  I  need  keep  these  miners  on  sentry 
go  any  longer.  The  bird  —  the  body,  I  mean  —  has 
flown.  Whoever  the  fellows  were  that  made  these 
tracks,  and  however  they  got  into  and  out  of  the 
house,  they  have  carried  the  body  away.  I  '11  pay 
the  watchers  and  dismiss  them.' 

'  All  right,'  said  Merton.  '  I  won't  dress.  I  must 
return  to  town  by  the  night  train.  No  time  to  be 
lost.' 

'  No  train  to  be  caught,'  said  Logan,  '  unless  you 
drive  or  walk  to  Berwick  from  here — which  you 
can't.  You  can't  walk  to  Dunbar,  to  catch  the  10.20, 
and  I  have  nothing  that  you  can  drive.' 

'  Can  I  send  a  telegram  to  town? ' 

'  It  is  four  miles  to  the  nearest  telegraph  station, 
but  I  dare  say  one  of  the  sentinels  would  walk  there 
for  a  consideration.' 

*  No  use,'  said  Merton.  '  I  should  need  to  wire  in 
a  cipher,  when  I  come  to  think  of  it,  and  cipher  I 


2  70  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

have  none.  I  must  go  as  early  as  I  can  to-morrow. 
Let  us  consult  Bradshaw.' 

They  entered  the  house.  Merton  had  a  Bradshaw 
in  his  dressing-bag.  They  found  that  he  could  catch 
a  train  at  10.49  A.M.,  and  be  in  London  about  9  P.M. 

'  How  are  you  to  get  to  the  station  ?  '  asked  Logan. 
'  I  '11  tell  you  how,'  he  went  on.  '  I  '11  send  a  note  to 
the  inn  at  the  place,  and  order  a  trap  to  be  here  at 
ten.  That  will  give  you  lots  of  time.  It  is  about  four 
miles.' 

'Thank  you,'  said  Merton;  'I  see  no  better  way.' 
And  while  Logan  went  to  pay  and  dismiss  the  sentries 
and  send  a  messenger,  a  grandson  of  the  old  butler 
with  the  note  to  the  innkeeper,  Merton  toiled  up  the 
narrow  turnpike  stair  to  the  turret  chamber.  A  fire 
had  been  burning  all  day,  and  in  firelight  almost  any 
room  looks  tolerable.  There  was  a  small  four-poster 
bed,  with  slender  columns,  a  black  old  wardrobe,  and 
a  couple  of  chairs,  one  of  the  queer  antiquated  little 
dressing-tables,  with  many  drawers,  and  boxes,  and  a 
tiny  basin,  and  there  was  a  perfectly  new  tub,  which 
Logan  had  probably  managed  to  obtain  in  the  course 
of  the  day.  Merton's  evening  clothes  were  neatly 
laid  out,  the  shutters  were  closed,  curtains  there  were 
none ;  in  fact,  he  had  been  in  much  worse  quarters. 

As  he  dressed  he  mused.  '  Cursed  spite,'  thought 
he,  '  that  ever  I  was  born  to  be  an  amateur  detective ! 
And  cursed  be  my  confounded  thirst  for  general  in- 
formation !  Why  did  I  ever  know  what  Kurdaitcha 
and  Interlinia  mean?  If  I  turn  out  to  be  right,  oh, 
shade  of  Sherlock  Holmes,  what  a  pretty  kettle  of 
fish  there  will  be  !     Suppose  I  drop  the  whole  affair ! 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     271 

But  I  've  been  ass  enough  to  let  Logan  know  that  I 
have  an  idea.  Well,  we  shall  see  how  matters  shape 
themselves.     Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof,' 

Merton  d-escended  the  turnpike  stair,  holding  on 
to  the  rope  provided  for  that  purpose  in  old  Scotch 
houses.  He  found  Logan  standing  by  the  fire  in  the 
hall.  They  were  waited  on  by  the  old  man,  Bower. 
By  tacit  consent  they  spoke,  while  he  was  present, 
of  anything  but  the  subject  that  occupied  their  minds. 
They  had  quite  an  edible  dinner  —  cock-a-leekie, 
brandered  haddocks,  and  a  pair  of  roasted  fowls, 
with  a  mysterious  sweet  which  was  called  a  '  Hattit 
Kit.' 

'  It  is  an  historical  dish  in  this  house,'  said  Logan. 
'  A  favourite  with  our  ancestor,  the  conspirator.' 

The  wine  was  old  and  good,  having  been  laid  down 
before  the  time  of  the  late  marquis. 

'  In  the  circumstances,  Logan,'  said  Merton,  when 
the  old  serving  man  was  gone,  '  you  have  done  me 
very  well.' 

'  Thanks  to  Mrs.  Bower,  our  butler's  wife,'  said 
Logan.  '  She  is  a  truly  remarkable  woman.  She 
and  her  husband,  they  are  cousins,  are  members  of 
an  ancient  family,  our  hereditary  retainers.  One  of 
them.  Laird  Bower,  was  our  old  conspirator's  go-be- 
tween in  the  plot  to  kidnap  the  king,  of  which  you 
have  heard  so  much.  Though  he  was  an  aged  and 
ignorant  man,  he  kept  the  secret  so  well  that  our 
ancestor  was  never  even  suspected,  till  his  letters 
came  to  light  after  his  death,  and  after  Laird  Bower's 
death  too,  luckily  for  both  of  them.  So  you  see  we 
can  depend  on  it  that  this  pair  of  domestics,  and  their 


272  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

family,  were  not  concerned  in  this  new  abomination ; 
so  far,  the  robbery  was  not  from  within.' 

'  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,'  said  Merton.  '  I  had 
invented  a  theory,  too  stupid  to  repeat,  and  entirely 
demolished  by  the  footmarks  in  the  snow,  a  theory 
which  hypothetically  implicated  your  old  housekeeper. 
To  be  sure  it  did  not  throw  any  doubt  on  her  loyalty 
to  the  house,  quite  the  reverse.' 

*  What  was  your  theory?' 

'  Oh,  too  silly  for  words ;  that  the  marquis  had  been 
only  in  a  trance,  had  come  to  himself  when  alone 
with  the  old  lady,  who,  the  doctor  said,  was  watching 
in  the  room,  and  had  stolen  away,  to  see  how  you 
would  conduct  yourself  Childish  hypothesis  !  The 
obvious  one,  body-snatching,  is  correct.  This  is  very 
good  port.' 

'  If  things  had  been  as  you  thought  possible,  Jean 
Bower  was  not  the  woman  to  balk  the  marquis,'  said 
Logan.  *  But  you  must  see  her  and  hear  her  tell  her 
own  story.' 

'  Gladly,'  said  Merton,  '  but  first  tell  me  yours.' 

'When  I  arrived  I  found  the  poor  old  gentle- 
man unconscious.  Dr.  Douglas  was  in  attendance. 
About  noon  he  pronounced  life  extinct.  Mrs.  Bower 
watched,  or  "  waked  "  the  corpse.  I  left  her  with  it 
about  midnight,  as  I  told  you;  about  four  in  the 
morning  she  aroused  me  with  the  news  that  the  body 
had  vanished.  What  I  did  after  that  you  know. 
Now  you  had  better  hear  the  story  from  herself ' 

Logan  rang  a  handbell,  there  were  no  other  bells 
in  the  keep,  and  asked  the  old  serving-man,  when  he 
came,  to  send  in  Mrs.  Bower. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     273 

She  entered,  a  very  aged  woman,  dressed  in  deep 
mourning.  She  was  tall,  her  hair  of  an  absolutely 
pure  white,  her  aquiline  face  was  drawn,  her  cheeks 
hollow,  her  mouth  almost  toothless.  She  made  a  deep 
courtesy,  repeating  it  when  Logan  introduced  '  my 
friend,  Mr.    Merton.' 

'  Mrs.  Bower,'  Logan  said,  '  Mr.  Merton  is  my  old- 
est friend,  and  the  marquis  saw  him  in  London,  and 
consulted  him  on  private  business  a  few  days  ago. 
He  wishes  to  hear  you  tell  what  you  saw  the  night 
before  last.' 

'  Maybe,  as  the  gentleman  is  English,  he  '11  hardly 
understand  me,  my  lord.  I  have  a  landward  tongue,' 
said  Mrs.  Bower. 

'  I  can  interpret  if  Mr.  Merton  is  puzzled,  Mrs. 
Bower,  but  I  think  he  will  understand  better  if  we  go 
to  the  laird's  chamber.' 

Logan  took  two  lighted  candies,  handing  two  to 
Merton,  and  the  old  woman  led  them  upstairs  to  a 
room  which  occupied  the  whole  front  of  the  ancient 
'  peel,'  or  square  tower,  round  which  the  rest  of  the 
house  was  built.  The  room  was  nearly  bare  of  furni- 
ture, except  for  an  old  chair  or  two,  a  bureau,  and  a 
great  old  bed  of  state,  facing  the  narrow  deep 
window,  and  standing  on  a  kind  of  dais,  or  platform 
of  three  steps.  The  heavy  old  green  curtains  were 
drawn  all  round  it.  Mrs.  Bower  opened  them  at  the 
front  and  sides.  At  the  back  against  the  wall  the 
curtains,  embroidered  with  the  arms  of  Restalrig,  re- 
mained closed. 

'  I  sat  here  all  the  night,'  said  Mrs.  Bower,  *  watch- 
ing the  corp  that  my  hands  had  streikit.     The  candles 


2  74  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

were  burning  a'  about  him,  the  saut  lay  on  his  breast, 
only  aefold  o'  linen  covered  him.  My  back  was  to 
the  window,  my  face  to  his  feet.  I  was  crooning  the 
auld  dirgie;  if  it  does  nae  guid,  it  does  nae  harm.' 
She  recited  in  a  monotone : 

'  When  thou  frae  here  away  art  past  — 

Every  nicht  and  all  — 
To  Whinny-muir  thou  comest  at  last, 

And  Christ  receive  thy  saul. 

'  If  ever  thou  gavest  hosen  and  shoon  — 

Every  nicht  and  all  — 
Sit  thee  down  and  put  them  on, 

And  Christ  receive  thy  saul. 

'Alas,  he  never  gave  nane,  puir  man,'  said  the 
woman  with  a  sob. 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  chamber  slowly 
opened.  The  woman  turned  and  gazed  at  it,  frown- 
ing, her  Hps  wide  apart. 

Logan  went  to  the  door,  looked  into  the  passage, 
closed  the  door  and  locked  it;  the  key  had  to  be 
turned  twice,  in  the  old  fashion,  and  worked  with  a 
creaking  jar. 

'  I  had  crooned  thae  last  words, 

And  Christ  receive  thy  saul, 

when  the  door  opened,  as  ye  saw  it  did  the  now.  It 
is  weel  kenned  that  a  corp  canna  lie  still  in  a  room 
with  the  door  hafiflins  open.  I  rose  to  lock  it,  the 
catch  is  crazy.  I  was  backing  to  the  door,  with  my 
face  to  the  feet  o'  the  corp.  I  saw  them  move  back- 
wards, slow  they  moved,  and  my  heart  stood  still  in 
my  breist.     Then  I  saw'  —  here  she  stepped  to  the 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     275 

head  of  the  bed  and  drew  apart  the  curtains,  which 
opened  in  the  middle  — '  I  saw  the  curtain  was  open, 
and  naething  but  blackness  ahint  it.  Ye  see,  my 
Lord,  ahint  the  bed-heid  is  the  entrance  o'  the  auld 
secret  passage.  The  stanes  hae  lang  syne  fallen  in, 
and  closed  it,  but  my  Lord  never  would  have  the 
hole  wa'ed  up.  "  There  's  nae  draught,  Jean,  or  nane 
to  mention,  and  I  never  was  wastefu'  in  needless  re- 
pairs," he  aye  said.  Weel,  when  I  looked  that  way, 
his  face,  down  to  the  chafts,  was  within  the  blackness, 
and  aye  draw,  drawing  further  ben.  Then,  I  shame  to 
say  it,  a  sair  dwawm  cam  ower  me,  I  gae  a  bit  chokit 
cry,  and  I  kenned  nae  mair  till  I  cam  to  mysel,  a'  the 
candles  were  out,  and  the  chamber  was  mirk  and 
lown.  I  heard  the  skirl  o'  a  passing  train,  and  I  crap 
to  the  bed,  and  the  skirl  kind  o'  reminded  me  o'  liv- 
ing folk,  and  I  felt  a'  ower  the  bed  wi'  my  hands. 
There  was  nae  corp.  Ye  ken  that  the  Enemy  has 
power,  when  a  corp  lies  in  a  room,  and  the  door  is 
hafflins  closed.  Whiles  they  sit  up,  and  grin  and 
yammer.  I  hae  kenned  that.  Weel,  how  long  I  had 
lain  in  the  dwawm  I  canna  say.  The  train  that 
skirled  maun  hae  been  a  coal  train  that  rins  by  about 
half-past  three  in  the  morning.  There  was  a  styme  o' 
licht  that  streeled  in  at  the  open  door,  frae  a  candle 
your  lordship  set  on  a  table  in  the  lobby;  the  auld 
lord  would  hae  nae  lichts  in  the  house  after  the  ten 
hours.  Sae  I  got  to  the  door,  and  grippit  to  the 
candle,  and  flew  off  to  your  lordship's  room,  and  the 
rest  ye  ken.' 

'  Thank  you,  very  much,  Mrs.  Bower,'  said  Logan. 
'You  quite  understand,  Merton,  don't  you?' 


2  76  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  thoroughly  understand  your  story,  Mrs.  Bower,* 
said  Merton. 

'  We  need  not  keep  you  any  longer,  Mrs.  Bower,' 
said  Logan.  '  Nobody  need  sit  up  for  us;  you  must 
be  terribly  fatigued.' 

'  You  wunna  forget  to  rake  out  the  ha'  fire,  my 
lord?'  said  the  old  lady,  'I  wush  your  Lordship  a 
sound  sleep,  and  you,  sir,'  so  she  curtsied  and  went, 
Logan  unlocking  the  door. 

'  And  I  was  in  London  this  morning !  '  said  Merton, 
drawing  a  long  breath. 

'  You  're  over  Tweed,  now,  old  man,'  answered 
Logan,  with  patriotic  satisfaction. 

'  Don't  go  yet,'  said  Merton.  'You  examined  the 
carpet  of  the  room ;  no  traces  there  of  these  odd 
muffled  foot-coverings  you  found  in  the  snow?' 

'  Not  a  trace  of  any  kind.  The  salt  was  spilt,  some 
of  it  lay  on  the  floor.     The  plate  was  not  broken.' 

'  If  they  came  in,  it  would  be  barefoot,'  said 
Merton. 

'  Of  course  the  police  left  traces  of  official  boots,' 
said  Logan.  '  Where  are  they  now  —  the  policemen,  I 
mean?  ' 

'  Two  are  to  sleep  in  the  kitchen.' 

'  They  found  out  nothing?  ' 

'  Of  course  not' 

'  Let  me  look  at  the  hole  in  the  wall.'  Merton 
climbed  on  to  the  bed  and  entered  the  hole.  It  was 
about  six  feet  long  by  four  wide.  Stones  had  fallen 
in,  at  the  back,  and  had  closed  the  passage  in  a  rough 
way,  indeed  what  extent  of  the  floor  of  the  passage 
existed  was  huddled  with  stones.  Merton  examined 
the  sides  of  the  passage,  which  were  mere  rubble. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     277 

'  Have  you  looked  at  the  floor  beneath  those  fallen 
stones?'  Merton  asked. 

'  No,  by  Jove,  I  never  thought  of  that,'  said  Logan. 

'  How  could  they  have  been  stirred  without  the  old 
woman  hearing  the  noise?  ' 

'  How  do  you  know  they  were  there  before  the 
marquis's  death?'  asked  Merton,  adding,  '  this  hole 
was  not  swept  and  dusted  regularly.  Either  the 
entrance  is  beneath  me,  or  —  "  the  Enemy  had  power  " 
—  as  Mrs.  Bower  says.' 

'  You  must  be  right,'  said  Logan.  '  I  '11  have  the 
stones  removed  to-morrow.  The  thing  is  clear.  The 
passage  leads  to  somewhere  outside  of  the  house. 
There  's  an  abandoned  coal  mine  hard  by,  on  the  east. 
Nothing  can  be  simpler.' 

'  When  once  you  see  it,'  said  Merton. 

'  Come  and  have  a  whisky  and  soda,'  said  Logan. 


///.     A  Romance  of  Brads  haw 

Merton  slept  very  well  in  the  turret  room.  He 
was  aroused  early  by  noises  which  he  interpreted  as 
caused  by  the  arrival  of  the  London  detectives.  But 
he  only  turned  round,  like  the  sluggard,  and  slumbered 
till  Logan  aroused  him  at  eight  o'clock.  He  de- 
scended about  a  quarter  to  nine,  breakfast  was  at 
nine,  and  he  found  Logan  looking  much  disturbed. 

'  They  don't  waste  time,'  said  Logan,  handing  to 
Merton  a  letter  in  an  opened  envelope.  Logan's 
hand  trembled. 

'  Typewritten    address,    London     postmark,'    said 


2  78  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Merton.     '  To  Robert  Logan,  Esq.,  at  Kirkburn  Keep, 
Drem,  Scotland.' 

Merton  read  the  letter  aloud ;  there  was  no  date  of 
place,  but  there  were  the  words : 

'  March  6,  2.45  p.m. 

*  Sir,  —  Perhaps  I  ought  to  say  my  Lord ' 

'  What  a  fool  the  fellow  is,'  said  Merton. 

'Why?' 

'  Shows  he  is  an  educated  man.' 

*  You  may  obtain  news  as  to  the  mortal  remains  of  your 
kinsman,  the  late  Marquis  of  Restalrig,  and  as  to  his  Will, 
by  walking  in  the  Burlington  Arcade  on  March  11,  between 
the  hours  of  three  and  half-past  three  p.m.  You  must  be 
attired  in  full  mourning  costume,  carrying  a  glove  in  your 
left  hand,  and  a  black  cane,  with  a  silver  top,  in  your  right. 
A  lady  will  drop  her  purse  beside  you.  You  will  accost 
her.' 

Here  the  letter,  which  was  typewritten,  ended, 
'  You  won't?  '  said  Merton.     '  Never  meet  a  black- 
mailer halfway.' 

'  I  would  n't,'  said  Logan.     '  But  look  here  ! ' 
He  gave  Merton  another  letter,  in  outward  respect 
exactly  similar  to  the  first,  except  that  the  figure  2 
was  typewritten  in  the  left  corner.     The  letter  ran 
thus: 

*  March  6,  4.25  p.m. 

<  Sir,  —  I  regret  to  have  to  trouble  you  with  a  second 
communication,  but  my  former  letter  was  posted  before  a 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY    MARQUIS     279 

change  occurred  in  the  circumstances.  You  will  be  pleased 
to  hear  that  I  have  no  longer  the  affliction  of  speaking  of 
your  noble  kinsman  as  "  the  late  Marquis  of  Restalrig."  ' 

*  Oh  my  prophetic  soul ! '  said  Merton,  '  I  guessed  at 
first  that  he  was  not  dead  after  all !  Only  catalepsy.' 
He  went  on  reading:  'His  Lordship  recovered  con- 
sciousness in  circumstances  which  I  shall  not  pain 
you  by  describing.  He  is  now  doing  as  well  as  can 
be  expected,  and  may  have  several  years  of  useful 
life  before  him.  I  need  not  point  out  to  you  that  the 
conditions  of  the  negotiation  are  now  greatly  altered. 
On  the  one  hand,  my  partners  and  myself  may  seem 
to  occupy  the  position  of  players  who  work  a  double 
ruff  at  whist.  We  are  open  to  the  marquis's  offers 
for  release,  and  to  yours  for  his  eternal  absence  from 
the  scene  of  life  and  enjoyment.  But  it  is  by  no 
means  impossible  that  you  may  have  scruples  about 
outbidding  your  kinsman,  especially  as,  if  you  did, 
you  would,  by  the  very  fact,  become  subject  to  per- 
petual "  black-mailing "  at  our  hands.  I  speak 
plainly,  as  one  man  of  the  world  to  another.  It  is 
also  a  drawback  to  our  position  that  you  could  attain 
your  ends  without  blame  or  scandal  (your  ends  being, 
of  course,  if  the  law  so  determines,  immediate  succes- 
sion to  the  property  of  the  marquis),  by  merely  push- 
ing us,  with  the  aid  of  the  police,  to  a  fatal  extreme. 
We  are,  therefore  reluctantly  obliged  to  conclude  that 
we  cannot  put  the  marquis's  life  up  to  auction  between 
you  and  him,  as  my  partners,  in  the  first  flush  of 
triumph,  had  conceived.  But  any  movement  on 
your  side  against  us  will  be  met  in  such  a  way  that 
the  consequences,  both  to  yourself  and  your  kinsman, 


28o  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

will  prove  to  the  last  degree  prejudicial.  For  the 
rest,  the  arrangements  specified  in  my  earlier  note  of 
this  instant  (dated  2.45  p.  M.)  remain  in  force.' 

Merton  returned  the  letter  to  Logan.  Their  faces 
were  almost  equally  blank. 

'  Let  me  think !  '  said  Merton.  He  turned,  and 
walked  to  the  window.  Logan  re-read  the  letters 
and  waited.  Presently  Merton  came  back  to  the 
fireside.  '  You  see,  after  all,  this  resolves  itself  into 
the  ordinary  dilemma  of  brigandage.  We  do  not 
want  to  pay  ransom,  enormous  ransom  probably,  if 
we  can  rescue  the  marquis,  and  destroy  the  gang. 
But  the  marquis  himself ' 

'  Oh,  he  would  never  offer  terms  that  they  would 
accept,'  said  Logan,  with  conviction.  'But  I  would 
stick  at  no  ransom,  of  course.' 

'  But  suppose  that  I  see  a  way  of  defeating  the 
scoundrels,  would  you  let  me  risk  it?' 

'  If  you  neither  imperil  yourself  nor  him  too 
much.' 

*  Never  mind  me,  I  like  it.  And,  as  for  him,  they 
will  be  very  loth  to  destroy  their  winning  card.' 

*  You  '11  be  cautious?  ' 

'  Naturally,  but,  as  this  place  and  the  stations  are 
sure  to  be  watched,  as  the  trains  are  slow,  local,  and 
inconvenient,  and  as,  thanks  to  the  economy  of  the 
marquis,  you  have  no  horses,  it  will  be  horribly  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  leave  the  house  and  get  to  London  and 
to  work  without  their  spotting  me.  It  is  absolutely 
essential  to  my  scheme  that  I  should  not  be  known 
to  be  in  town,  and  that  I  should  be  supposed  to  be 
here.     I  '11  think  it  out.     In  the  meantime  we  must 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     281 

do  what  we  can  to  throw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  the 
enemy.  Wire  an  identical  advertisement  to  all  the 
London  papers ;   I  '11  write  it,' 

Merton  went  to  a  table  on  which  lay  some  writing 
materials,  and  wrote  :  — 

'  BURLINGTON  ARCADE.  SILVER-TOPPED  EBONY 
STICK.  Any  offer  made  by  the  other  party  will  be  doubled 
on  receipt  of  that  consignment  uninjured.  Will  meet  the 
lady.  Traps  shall  be  kept  here  till  after  the  date  you  men- 
tion.    CHURCH  BROOK." 

'Now,'  said  Merton,  'he  will  see  that  Church  Brook 
is  Kirkburn,  and  that  you  will  be  liberal.  And  he 
will  understand  that  the  detectives  are  not  to  return 
to  London.     You  did  not  show  them  the  letters? ' 

'  Of  course  not  till  you  saw  them,  and  I  won't.' 

'  And,  if  nothing  can  be  done  before  the  eleventh, 
why  you  must  promenade  in  the  Burlington  Arcade.' 

'  You  see  one  weak  point  in  your  offers,  don't 
you? ' 

'Which?' 

'  Why,  suppose  they  do  release  the  marquis,  how 
am  I  to  get  the  money  to  pay  double  his  offer?  He 
won't  stump  up  and  recoup  me.' 

Merton  laughed.  '  We  must  risk  it,'  he  said. 
'  And,  in  the  changed  circumstances,  the  tin  might 
be  raised  on  a  post-obit.  But  he  won't  bid  high ;  you 
may  double  safely  enough.' 

On  considering  these  ideas  Logan  looked  relieved. 
'  Now,'  he  asked,  '  about  your  plan  ;  is  it  following  the 
emu's  feather? ' 

Merton  nodded.     '  But  I  must  do  it  alone.     The 


282  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

detectives  must  stay  here.  Now  if  I  leave,  dressed 
as  I  am,  by  the  10.49,  I  'H  be  tracked  all  the  way. 
Is  there  anybody  in  the  country  whom  you  can 
absolutely  trust?  ' 

'  Yes,  there 's  Bower,  the  gardener,  the  son  of  these 
two  feudal  survivals,  and  there  is  his  son.' 

'  What  is  young  Bower?  ' 

'A  miner  in  the  collieries;  the  mine  is  near  the 
house.' 

'  Is  he  about  my  size?     Have  you  seen  him?  ' 

'  I  saw  him  last  night ;  he  was  one  of  the  watchers.' 

'  Is  he  near  my  size?  ' 

'  A  trifle  broader,  otherwise  near  enough.' 

'What  luck!'  said  Merton,  adding,  'well,  I  can't 
start  by  the  10. 49.  I'm  ill.  I  'm  in  bed.  Order  my 
breakfast  in  bed,  send  Mrs.  Bower,  and  come  up  with 
her  yourself.' 

Merton  rushed  up  the  turnpike  stair;  in  two  minutes 
he  was  undressed,  and  between  the  sheets.  There  he 
lay,  reading  Bradshaw,  pages  670,  671. 

Presently  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Logan 
entered,  followed  by  Mrs.  Bower  with  the  breakfast 
tray. 

Merton  addressed  her  at  once. 

'Mrs.  Bower,  we  know  that  we  cau  trust  you 
absolutely.' 

'To  the  death,  sir  —  me  and  mine.' 

'Well,  I  am  not  ill,  but  people  must  think  I  am  ill. 
Is  your  grandson  on  the  night  shift  or  the  day  shift?' 

'  Laird  is  on  the  day  shift,  sir.' 

*  When  does  he  leave  his  work? ' 

'  About  six,  sir.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     283 
'  That  is  good.     As  soon  as  he  appears ' 


'I  '11  wait  for  him  at  the  pit's  mouth,  sir.' 

'Thank  you.  You  will  take  him  to  his  house;  he 
lives  with  your  son?  ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  with  his  father.' 

'Make  him  change  his  working  clothes  —  but  he 
need  not  wash  his  face  much  —  and  bring  him  here. 
Mr.  Logan,  I  mean  Lord  Fastcastle,  will  want  him. 
Now,  Mrs.  Bower  —  you  see  I  trust  you  absolutely  — 
what  he  is  wanted  for  is  tJiis.  I  shall  dress  in  your 
grandson's  clothes,  I  shall  blacken  my  hands  and  face 
slightly,  and  I  must  get  to  Drem.  Have  I  time  to 
reach  the  station  by  ten  minutes  past  seven  ? ' 

'  By  fast  walking,  sir.' 

'  Mr.  Logan  and  your  grandson  —  your  grandson 
in  my  clothes  —  will  walk  later  to  your  son's  house,  as 
they  find  a  chance,  unobserved,  say  about  eleven 
at  night.  They  will  stay  there  for  some  time.  Then 
they  will  be  joined  by  some  of  the  police,  who  will 
accompany  Mr.  Logan  home  again.  Your  grandson 
will  go  to  his  work  as  usual  in  the  morning.  That  is 
all.  You  quite  understand?  You  have  nothing  to 
do  but  to  bring  your  grandson  here,  dressed  as  I  said, 
as  soon  as  he  leaves  his  work.  Oh,  wait  a  moment ! 
Is  your  grandson  a  teetotaller?' 

'  He  's  like  the  other  lads,  sir.' 

'  All  the  better.     Does  he  smoke  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

'  Then  pray  bring  me  a  pipe  of  his  and  some  of  his 
tobacco.  And,  ah  yes,  does  he  possess  such  a  thing 
as  an  old  great-coat?' 

'  His  auld  ane  's  salr  worn,  sir.' 


284  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  Never  mind,  he  had  better  walk  up  in  it.  He  has 
a  better  one?  ' 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

'  I  think  that  is  all,'  said  Merton.  '  You  under- 
stand, Mrs.  Bower,  that  I  am  going  away  dressed  as 
your  grandson,  while  your  grandson,  dressed  as  my- 
self, returns  to  his  house  to-night,  and  to  work  to- 
morrow. But  it  is  not  to  be  known  that  I  have  gone 
away.  I  am  to  be  supposed  ill  in  bed  here  for  a  day 
or  two.  You  will  bring  my  meals  into  the  room  at 
the  usual  hours,  and  Logan  —  of  course  you  can  trust 
Dr.  Douglas?' 

'  I  do.' 

'  Then  he  had  better  be  summoned  to  my  sick  bed 
here  to-morrow.  I  may  be  so  ill  that  he  will  have  to 
call  twice.  That  will  keep  up  the  belief  that  I  am 
here.' 

'  Good  idea,'  said  Logan,  as  the  old  woman  left  the 
room.     'What  had  I  better  do  now?  ' 

'  Oh,  send  your  telegrams —  the  advertisements  — 
to  the  London  papers.  They  can  go  by  the  trap  you 
ordered  for  me,  that  I  am  too  ill  to  go  in.  Then  you 
will  have  to  interview  the  detectives,  take  them  into 
the  laird's  chamber,  and,  if  they  start  my  theory 
about  the  secret  entrance  being  under  the  fallen 
stones,  let  them  work  away  at  removing  them.  If 
they  don't  start  it,  put  them  up  to  it ;  anything  to 
keep  them  employed  and  prevent  them  from  asking 
questions  in  the  villages.' 

'  But,  Merton,  I  understand  your  leaving  in  disguise ; 
still,  why  go  first  to  Edinburgh?  ' 

*  The  trains  from  your  station  to  town  do  not  fit. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     285 

You  can  look.'  And  Merton  threw  Bradshaw  to 
Logan,  who  caught  it  neatly. 

When  he  had  satisfied  himself,  Logan  said,  '  The 
shops  will  be  closed  in  Edinburgh,  it  will  be  after 
eight  when  you  arrive.  How  will  you  manage  about 
getting  into  decent  clothes?  ' 

*  I  have  my  idea ;  but,  as  soon  as  you  can  get  rid 
of  the  detectives,  come  back  here ;  I  want  you  to 
coach  me  in  broad  Scots  words  and  pronunciation. 
I  shall  concoct  imaginary  dialogues.  I  say,  this  is 
great  fun.' 

'Dod,  man,  aw 'm  the  lad  that'll  lairn  ye  the  pro- 
noonciation,'  said  Logan,  and  he  was  going. 

'Wait,'  said  Merton,  '  sign  me  a  paper  giving  me 
leave  to  treat  about  the  ransom.  And  promise  that, 
if  I  don't  reappear  by  the  eleventh,  you  won't  nego- 
tiate at  all.' 

'  Not  likely  I  will,'  said  Logan. 

Merton  lay  in  bed  inventing  imaginary  dialogues 
to  be  rendered  into  Scots  as  occasion  served.  Pres- 
ently Logan  brought  him  a  little  book  named  Mansie 
Wangh. 

'  That  is  our  lingo  here,'  he  said ;  and  Merton 
studied  the  work  carefully,  marking  some  phrases 
with  a  pencil. 

In  about  an  hour  Logan  reported  that  the  detec- 
tives were  at  work  in  the  secret  passage.  The  lesson 
in  the  Scots  of  the  Lothians  began,  accompanied  by 
sounds  of  muffled  laughter.  Not  for  two  or  three 
centuries  can  the  turret  chamber  at  Kirkburn  have 
heard  so  much  merriment. 

The  afternoon  passed  in  this  course  of  instruction. 


286  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Merton  was  a  fairly  good  mimic,  and  Logan  felt  at 
last  that  he  could  not  readily  be  detected  for  an 
Englishman.  Six  o'clock  had  scarcely  struck  when 
Mrs.  Bower's  grandson  was  ushered  into  the  bedroom. 
The  exchange  of  clothes  took  place,  Merton  dressing 
as  the  young  Bower  undressed.  The  detectives,  who 
had  found  nothing,  were  being  entertained  by  Mrs. 
Bower  at  dinner. 

'  I  know  how  the  trap  in  the  secret  passage  is 
worked,'  said  Merton,  'but  you  keep  them  hunting 
for  it.' 

Had  the  worthy  detectives  been  within  earshot  the 
yells  of  laughter  echoing  in  the  turret  as  the  men 
dressed  must  have  suggested  strange  theories  to  their 
imaginations. 

'  Larks !  '  said  Merton,  as  he  blackened  his  face 
with  coal  dust. 

Dismissing  young  Bower,  who  was  told  to  wait  in 
the  hall,  Merton  made  his  final  arrangements. 

'  You  will  communicate  with  me  under  cover  to 
Trevor,'  he  said.  He  took  a  curious  mediaeval  ring 
that  he  always  wore  from  his  finger,  and  tied  it  to  a 
piece  of  string,  which  he  hung  round  his  neck,  tuck- 
ing all  under  his  shirt.  Then  he  arranged  his  thick 
comforter  so  as  to  hide  the  back  of  his  head  and  neck 
(he  had  bitten  his  nails  and  blackened  them  with 
coal). 

'  Logan,  I  only  want  a  bottle  of  whisky,  the  cork 
drawn  and  loose  in  the  bottle,  and  a  few  dirty  Scotch 
one  pound  notes;  and,  oh!  has  Mrs.  Bower  a  pack 
of  cards? ' 

Having  been  supplied  with   these  properties,  and 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY    MARQUIS     287 

said  farewell  to  Logan,  Merton  stole  downstairs, 
walked  round  the  house,  entered  the  kitchen  by  the 
back  door,  and  said  to  Mrs.  Bower,  '  Grannie,  I  maun 
be  ganging.' 

'My  grandson,  gentlemen,'  said  Mrs.  Bower  to  the 
detectives.  Then  to  her  grandson,  she  remarked, 
'  Hae,  there  's  a  jeely  piece  for  you ' ;  and  Merton, 
munching  a  round  of  bread  covered  with  jam,  walked 
down  the  steep  avenue.  He  knew  the  house  he  was 
to  enter,  the  gardener's  lodge,  and  also  that  he  was  to 
approach  it  by  the  back  way,  and  go  in  at  the  back 
door.  The  inmates  expected  him  and  understood  the 
scheme ;  presently  he  went  out  by  the  door  into  the 
village  street,  still  munching  at  his  round  of  bread. 

To  such  lads  and  lassies  as  hailed  him  in  the  wan- 
ing light  he  rephed  gruffly,  explaining  that  he  had  '  a 
sair  hoast,'  that  is,  a  bad  cough,  from  which  he  had 
observed  that  young  Bower  was  suffering.  He  was 
soon  outside  of  the  village,  and  walking  at  top  speed 
towards  the  station.  Several  times  he  paused,  in 
shadowy  corners  of  the  hedges,  and  listened.  There 
was  no  sound  of  pursuing  feet.  He  was  not  being 
followed,  but,  of  course,  he  might  be  dogged  at  the 
station.  The  enemy  would  have  their  spies  there: 
if  they  had  them  in  the  village  his  disguise  had  de- 
ceived them.  He  ran,  whenever  no  passer-by  was  in 
sight;  through  the  villages  he  walked,  whistling 
*Wull  ye  no  come  back  again!'  He  reached  the 
station  with  three  minutes  to  spare,  took  a  third-class 
ticket,  and  went  on  to  the  platform.  Several  people 
were  waiting,  among  them  four  or  five  rough-looking 
miners,  probably  spies.     He  strolled  towards  the  end 


288  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

of  the  platform,  and  when  the  train  entered,  leaped  in- 
to a  third-class  carriage  which  was  nearly  full.  Turn- 
ing at  the  door,  he  saw  the  rough  customers  making 
for  the  same  carriage.  '  Come  on,'  cried  Merton, 
with  a  slight  touch  of  intoxication  in  his  voice ; 
'  come  on  billies,  a'  freens  here  ! '  and  he  cast  a  glance 
of  affection  behind  him  at  the  other  occupants  of  the 
carriage.     The  roughs  pressed  in. 

'  I  won't  have  it,'  cried  a  testy  old  gentleman,  who 
was  economically  travelling  by  third-class,  '  there  are 
only  three  seats  vacant.  The  rest  of  the  train  is 
nearly  empty.     Hi,  guard  !  station-master,  hi !  ' 

'  A'  freens  here,'  repeated  Merton  stolidly,  taking 
his  whisky  bottle  from  his  great-coat  pocket.  Two 
of  the  roughs  had  entered,  but  the  guard  persuaded 
the  other  two  that  they  must  bestow  themselves  else- 
where. The  old  gentleman  glared  at  Merton,  who 
was  standing  up,  the  cork  of  the  bottle  between  his 
teeth,  as  the  train  began  to  move.  He  staggered  and 
fell  back  into  his  seat. 

'  We  are  na  fou,  we  're  no  that  fou,' 

Merton  chanted,  directing  his  speech  to  the  old 
gentleman, 

'  But  just  a  wee  drap  in  oor  'ee! ' 

'  The  curse  of  Scotland,'  muttered  the  old  gentle- 
man, whether  with  reference  to  alcohol  or  to  Robert 
Burns,  is  uncertain. 

'  The  Curse  o'  Scotland,'  said  Merton,  '  that 's  the 
nine  o'  diamonds.  I  hae  the  cairts  on  me,  maybe 
ye'd  take  a   hand,  sir,   at  Beggar  ma   Neebour,  or 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     289 

Catch  the  Ten?  Ye  needna  be  feared,  a  can  pay  gin 
I  lose.'  He  dragged  out  his  cards,  and  a  handful  of 
silver. 

The  rough  customers  between  whom  Merton  was 
sitting  began  to  laugh  hoarsely.  The  old  gentleman 
frowned. 

'  I  shall  change  my  carriage  at  the  next  station,'  he 
said,  '  and  I  shall  report  you  for  gambling.' 

'  A'  freens ! '  said  Merton,  as  if  horrified  by  the 
austere  reception  of  his  cordial  advances.  '  Wha  's 
gaumlin'?  We  mauna  play,  billies,  till  he's  gane. 
An  unco  pernicketty  auld  carl,  thon  ane,'  he  re- 
marked, sotto  voce.  '  But  there 's  naething  in  the 
Company's  by-laws  again  refraishments,'  Merton 
added.  He  uncorked  his  bottle,  made  a  pretence  of 
sucking  at  it,  and  passed  it  to  his  neighbours,  the 
rough  customers.     They  imbibed  with  freedom. 

The  carriage  was  very  dark,  the  lamp  '  moved  like 
a  moon  in  a  wane,'  as  Merton  might  have  quoted  in 
happier  circumstances.  The  rough  customers  glared 
at  him,  but  his  cap  had  a  peak,  and  he  wore  his  com- 
forter high. 

'  Man,  ye  're  the  kind  o'  lad  I  like,'  said  one  of  the 
rough  customers. 

'A'  freens!  '  said  Merton,  again  applying  himself 
to  the  bottle,  and  passing  it.  '  Ony  ither  gentleman 
tak'  a  sook?'  asked  Merton,  including  all  the  passen- 
gers in  his  hospitable  glance.     *  Nane  o'  ye  dry? 

'Oh  !  fill  yer  ain  glass. 
And  let  the  jug  pass, 
Hoo  d  'ye  ken  but  yer  neighbour 's  dry  ? ' 

Merton  carolled. 

19 


290  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Thon  's  no  a  Scotch  lilt,'  remarked  one  of  the 
roughs. 

'  A  ken  it 's  Irish,'  said  Merton.  '  But,  billie,  the 
whusky  's  Scotch  ! ' 

The  train  slowed  and  the  old  gentleman  got  out. 
From  the  platform  he  stormed  at  Merton. 

*  Ye 're  no  an  awakened  character,  ma  freend,'  an- 
swered Merton.  '  Gude  nicht  to  ye !  Gie  ma  love 
to  the  gude  wife  and  the  weans !  ' 

The  train  pursued  her  course. 

'Aw'm  saying,  billie,  aw'm  saying,'  remarked  one 
of  the  roughs,  thrusting  his  dirty  beard  into  Merton's 
face. 

*  Weel,  be  saying,'  said  Merton. 

*  You  're  no  Lairdie  Bower,  ye  ken,  ye  haena  the 
neb  o'  him.' 

'And  wha  the  deil  said  a  was  Lairdie  Bower? 
Aw'm  a  Lanerick  man.  Lairdie  's  at  hame  wi'  a  sair 
hoast,'  answered  Merton. 

'  But  ye  're  wearing  Lairdie  Bower's  auld  big  coat.' 

'And  what  for  no?  Lairdie  has  anither  coat,  a 
brawer  yin,  and  he  lent  me  the  auld  yin  because  the 
nichts  is  cauld,  and  I  hae  a  hoast  ma'sel !  DW ye  ken 
Lairdie  Bower?  I  've  been  wi'  his  auld  faither  and  the 
lasses  half  the  day,  but  speakin  's  awfu'  dry  work.' 

Here  Merton  repeated  the  bottle  trick,  and  showed 
symptoms  of  going  to  sleep,  his  head  rolling  on  to  the 
shoulder  of  the  rough. 

*  Haud  up,  man  !  '  said  the  rough,  withdrawing  the 
support. 

'  A'  freens  here,'  remarked  Merton,  drawing  a  dirty 
clay  pipe  from  his  pocket.     '  Hae  ye  a  spunk?' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     291 

The  rough  provided  him  with  a  match,  and  he 
killed  some  time,  while  Preston  Pans  was  passed,  in 
filling  and  lighting  his  pipe. 

'  Ye 're  a  Lanerick  man?'  asked  the  inquiring 
rough. 

'  Ay,  a  Hamilton  frae  Moss  End.  But  I  'm  taking 
the  play.  Ma  auld  tittie  has  dee'd  and  left  me  some 
siller,'  Merton  dragged  a  handful  of  dirty  notes  out 
of  his  trousers  pocket.  '  I  've  been  to  see  the  auld 
Bowers,  but  Lairdie  was  on  the  shift.' 

*  And  ye  're  ganging  to  Embro  ?  ' 

'  When  we  cam'  into  Embro  Toon 
We  were  a  seemly  sicht  to  see ; 
Ma  luve  was  in  the 

I  dinna  mind  what  ma  luve  was  in  — 

'  And  I  ma'sel  in  cramoisie,' 

sang  Merton,  who  had  the  greatest  fear  of  being  asked 
local  questions  about  Moss  End  and  Motherwell.  '  I 
dinna  ken  what  cramoisie  is,  ma'sel','  he  added.  '  Hae 
a  drink !  ' 

'  Man,  ye  're  a  bonny  singer,'  said  the  rough,  who, 
hitherto,  had  taken  no  hand  in  the  conversation. 

'  Ma  faither  was  a  precentor,'  said  Merton,  and  so, 
in  fact,  Mr.  Merton  pere  had,  for  a  short  time,  been  — 
of  Salisbury  Cathedral. 

They  were  approaching  Portobello,  where  Merton 
rushed  to  the  window,  thrust  half  of  his  body  out, 
and  indulged  in  the  raucous  and  meaningless  yells  of 
the  festive  artisan.  Thus  he  tided  over  a  rather  pro- 
longed wait,  but,  when  the  train  moved  on,  the  inquir- 


292  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ing  rough  returned  to  the  charge.  He  was  suspicious, 
and  also  was  drunk,  and  obstinate  with  all  the  brain- 
less obstinacy  of  intoxication. 

'  Aw  'm  sayin','  he  remarked  to  Merton, '  you  're  no 
Lairdie  Bower.' 

'  Hear  till  the  man  !  Aw  'm  Tammy  Hamilton,  o' 
Moss  End  in  Lanerick.     Aw'm   ganging  to  see  ma 

Jean. 

'  For  day  or  night 

Ma  fancy's  flight 

Is  ever  wi'  ma  Jean  — 

Ma  bonny,  bonny,  flat-footed  Jean,' 

sang  Merton,  gliding  from  the  strains  of  Robert  Burns 
into  those  of  Mr.  Boothby.  '  Jean  's  a  Lanerick  wum- 
man,'  he  added,  '  she  's  in  service  in  the  Pleasance. 
Aw  'm  ganging  to  my  Jo.     Ye  '11  a'  hae  Jos,  billies?  ' 

'  Aw  'm  sayin','  the  intoxicated  rough  persisted, 
'  ye  're  no  a  Lanerick  man.  Ye  're  the  English 
gentleman  birkie  that  cam'  to  Kirkburn  yestreen. 
Or  else  ye 're  ane  o'  the  polis'   (police). 

'  Me  ane  o'  the  polis  !  Aw  'm  askin'  the  company, 
div  a  look  like  a  polisman?  Div  a  look  like  an  Eng- 
lish birkie,  or  ane  o'  the  gentry? ' 

The  other  passengers,  decent  people,  thus  appealed 
to,  murmured  negatives,  and  shook  their  heads.  Mer- 
ton certainly  did  not  resemble  a  policeman,  an  Eng- 
lishman, or  a  gentleman. 

*  Ye  see  naebody  lippens  to  ye,'  Merton  went  on. 
'  Man,  if  we  were  na  a'  freens,  a  wad  gie  ye  a  jaud 
atween  yer  twa  een  !  But  ye  've  been  drinking.  Tak 
anither  sook !  * 

The  rough  did  not  reject  the  conciliatory  ofifer. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY    MARQUIS     293 

'  The  whiskey  's  low,'  said  Merton,  holding  up  the 
bottle  to  the  light,  '  but  there 's  mair  at  Embro' 
station.' 

They  were  now  drawing  up  at  the  station.  Merton 
floundered  out,  threw  his  arms  round  the  necks  of 
each  of  the  roughs,  yelled  to  their  companions  in  the 
next  carriage  to  follow,  and  staggered  into  the  third- 
class  refreshment  room.  Here  he  leaned  against  the 
counter  and  feebly  ogled  the  attendant  nymph. 

'  Ma  lonny  bassie,  a  mean  ma  bonny  lassie/  he 
said, '  gie  's  five  gills,  five  o'  the  Auld  Kirk '  (whisky). 

'  Hoots  man !  '  he  heard  one  of  the  roughs  remark 
to  another.  '  This  falla  's  no  the  English  birkie. 
English  he  canna  be.' 

'  But  aiblins  he  's  ane  o'  oor  ain  polis,'  said  the  man 
of  suspicions. 

'  Nane  o'  oor  polls  has  the  gumption ;  and  him  as 
fou  as  a  fiddler.' 

Merton,  waving  his  glass,  swallowed  its  contents  at 
three  gulps.  He  then  fell  on  the  floor,  scrambled  to 
his  feet,  tumbled  out,  and  dashed  his  own  whisky  bot- 
tle through  the  window  of  the  refreshment  room. 

'  Me  ane  o'  the  polis !  '  he  yelled,  and  was  stagger- 
ing towards  the  exit,  when  he  was  collared  by  two 
policemen,  attracted  by  the  noise.  He  embraced 
one  of  them,  murmuring  '  ma  bonny  Jean  ! '  and  then 
doubled  up,  his  head  lolling  on  his  shoulder.  His 
legs  and  arms  jerked  convulsively,  and  he  had  at  last 
to  be  carried  off,  in  the  manner  known  as '  The  Frog's 
March,'  by  four  members  of  the  force.  The  roughs 
followed,  like  chief  mourners,  Merton  thought,  at  the 
head  of  the  attendant  crowd. 


294  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  There  's  an  end  o'  your  clash  about  the  English 
gentleman,'  Merton  heard  the  quieter  of  his  late  com- 
panions observe  to  the  obstinate  inquirer.  '  But  he  's 
a  bonny  singer.  And  noo,  wuU  ye  tell  me  hoo  we  're 
to  win  back  to  Drem  the  nicht?  ' 

*  Dod,  we  '11  make  a  nicht  o't,'  said  the  other,  as 
Merton  was  carried  into  the  poHce-station. 

He  permitted  himself  to  be  lifted  into  one  of  the 
cells,  and  then  remarked,  in  the  most  silvery  tones : 

'  Very  many  thanks,  my  good  men.  I  need  not 
give  you  any  more  trouble,  except  by  asking  you,  if 
possible,  to  get  me  some  hot  water  and  soap,  and  to 
invite  the  inspector  to  favour  me  with  his  company.' 

The  men  nearly  dropped  Merton,  but,  finding  his 
feet,  he  stood  up  and  smiled  blandly. 

*  Pray  make  no  apologies,'  he  said,  '  It  is  rather  I 
who  ought  to  apologise.' 

'  He  's  no  drucken,  and  he  's  no  Scotch,'  remarked 
one  of  the  policemen. 

'  But  he  '11  pass  the  nicht  here,  and  maybe  apolo- 
gise to  the  Baillie  in  the  morning,'  said  another. 

'  Oh,  pardon  me,  you  mistake  me,'  said  Merton. 
*  This  is  not  a  stupid  practical  joke.' 

'  It's  no  a  very  gude  ane,'  said  the  policeman. 

Merton  took  out  a  handful  of  gold.  *  I  wish  to  pay 
for  the  broken  window  at  once,'  he  said.  '  It  was  a 
necessary  part  of  the  mise  en  sctne,  of  the  stage  effect, 
you  know.     To  call  your  attention.' 

'  Ye  '11  settle  wi'  the  Baillie  in  the  morning,'  said  the 
policeman. 

Things  were  looking  untoward. 

*  Look  here,'  said  Merton, '  I  quite  understand  your 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     295 

point  of  view,  it  does  credit  to  your  intelligence.  You 
take  me  for  an  English  tourist,  behaving  as  I  have 
done  by  way  of  a  joke,  or  for  a  bet  ? ' 

'  That 's  it,  sir,'  said  the  spokesman. 

'  Well,  it  does  look  like  that.  But  which  of  you  is 
the  senior  officer  here?  ' 

'  Me,  sir,'  said  the  last  speaker. 

'Very  well,  if  you  can  be  so  kind  as  to  call  the 
officer  in  charge  of  the  station,  or  even  one  of  senior 
standing  —  the  higher  the  better  —  I  can  satisfy  him 
as  to  my  identity,  and  as  to  my  reasons  for  behaving 
as  I  have  done.  I  assure  you  that  it  is  a  matter  of 
the  very  gravest  importance.  If  the  inspector,  when 
he  has  seen  me,  permits,  I  have  no  objections  to  you, 
or  to  all  of  you  hearing  what  I  have  to  say.  But  you 
will  understand  that  this  is  a  matter  for  his  own  discre- 
tion. If  I  were  merely  playing  the  fool,  you  must  see 
that  I  have  nothing  to  gain  by  giving  additional 
annoyance  and  offence.' 

*  Very  well,  sir,  I  will  bring  the  officer  in  charge,' 
said  the  policeman. 

'  Just  tell  him  about  my  arrest  and  so  on,'  said 
Merton. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  returned  with  his  superior. 

'Well,  my  man,  what's  a'  this  aboot?'  said  that 
officer  sternly. 

'  If  you  can  give  me  an  interview,  alone,  for  five 
minutes,  I  shall  enlighten  you,'  said  Merton. 

The  officer  was  a  huge  and  stalwart  man.  He 
threw  his  eye  over  Merton.  '  Wait  in  the  yaird,'  he 
said  to  his  minions,  who  retreated  rather  reluctantly. 
'  Weel,  speak  up,'  said  the  officer. 


296  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  It  is  the  body  snatching  case  at  Kirkburn/  said 
Merton. 

*  Do  ye  mean  that  ye  're  an  English  detective?  ' 

'  No,  merely  a  friend  of  Mr.  Logan's  who  left 
Kirkburn  this  evening.  I  have  business  to  do  for 
him  in  London  in  connection  with  the  case  —  business 
that  nobody  can  do  but  myself — and  the  house  was 
watched.  I  escaped  in  the  disguise  which  you  see 
me  wearing,  and  had  to  throw  off  a  gang  of  ruffians 
that  accompanied  me  in  the  train  by  pretending  to 
be  drunk.  I  could  only  shake  them  off  and  destroy 
the  suspicions  which  they  expressed  by  getting 
arrested.' 

*  It 's  a  queer  story,'  said  the  policeman. 

'  It  is  a  queer  story,  but,  speaking  without  knowl- 
edge, I  think  your  best  plan  is  to  summon  the  chief 
of  your  detective  department,  I  need  his  assistance. 
And  I  can  prove  my  identity  to  him  —  to  you,  if  you 
Hke,  but  you  know  best  what  is  official  etiquette.' 

'  I  '11  telephone  for  him,  sir.' 

'You  are  very  obliging.  All  this  is  confidential, 
you  know.  Expense  is  no  object  to  Mr.  Logan,  and 
he  will  not  be  ungrateful  if  strict  secrecy  is  preserved. 
But,  of  all  things,  I  want  a  wash.' 

'All  right,  sir,'  said  the  policeman,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  Merton's  head,  hands,  and  neck,  were  restored 
to  their  pristine  propriety. 

'  No  more  kailyard  talk  for  me,'  he  thought,  with 
satisfaction. 

The  head  of  the  detective  department  arrived  in  no 
long  time.  He  was  in  evening  dress.  Merton  rose 
and  bowed. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     297 

'  What 's  your  story,  sir?  '  the  chief  asked  ;  '  it  has 
brought  me  from  a  dinner  party  at  my  own  house.' 

'  I  deeply  regret  it,'  said  Merton,  '  though,  for  my 
purpose,  it  is  the  merest  providence.' 

'What  do  you  mean,  sir?' 

'  Your  subordinate  has  doubtless  told  you  all  that 
I  told  him?' 

The  chief  nodded. 

'  Do  you  —  I  mean  as  an  official  —  believe  me  ?  ' 

'  I  would  be  glad  of  proof  of  your  personal 
identity.' 

*  That  is  easily  given.  You  may  know  Mr. 
Lumley,  the  Professor  of  Toxicology  in  the  Univer- 
sity here?  ' 

'  I  have  met  him  often  on  matters  of  our  business.' 

'  He  is  an  old  college  friend  of  mine,  and  can 
remove  any  doubts  you  may  entertain.  His  wife  is  a 
tall  woman  luckily,'  added  Merton  to  himself,  much 
to  the  chief's  bewilderment. 

'  Mr.  Lumley's  word  would  quite  satisfy  me,'  said 
the  chief. 

'  Very  well,  pray  lend  me  your  attention.  This 
affair ' 

'The  body  snatching  at  Kirkburn?'  asked  the 
chief 

'  Exactly,'  said  Merton.  '  This  affair  is  very  well 
organised.  Your  house  is  probably  being  observed. 
Now  what  I  propose  is  this.  I  can  go  nowhere 
dressed  as  I  am.  You  will,  if  you  please,  first  send  a 
constable,  in  uniform,  to  your  house  with  orders  to 
wait  till  you  return.  Next,  I  shall  dress,  by  your 
permission,  in  any  spare  uniform  you  may  have  here, 


298  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

and  in  that  costume  I  shall  leave  this  office  and 
accompany  you  to  your  house  in  a  closed  cab.  You 
will  enter  it,  bring  out  a  hat  and  cloak,  come  into  the 
cab,  and  I  shall  put  them  on,  leaving  my  policeman's 
helmet  in  the  cab,  which  will  wait.  Then,  minutes 
later,  the  constable  will  come  out,  take  the  cab, 
and  drive  to  any  pohce  office  you  please.  Once 
within  your  house,  I  shall  exchange  my  uniform  for 
any  old  evening  suit  you  may  be  able  to  lend  me, 
and,  when  your  guests  have  departed,  you  and  I  will 
drive  together  to  Professor  Lumley's,  where  he  will 
identify  me.  After  that,  my  course  is  perfectly  clear, 
and  I  need  give  you  no  further  trouble.' 

'  It  is  too  complicated,  sir,'  said  the  chief,  smiling. 
'  I  don't  know  your  name?  ' 

'  Merton,'  said  our  hero,  '  and  yours? ' 

'  Macnab.  I  can  lend  you  a  plain  suit  of  morning 
clothes  from  here,  and  we  don't  want  the  stratagem 
of  the  constable.  You  don't  even  need  the  extra 
trouble  of  putting  on  evening  dress  in  my  house.' 

'  How  very  fortunate,'  said  Merton,  and  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  he  was  attired  as  a  simple  citizen,  and  was 
driving  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Macnab.  Here  he  was 
merely  introduced  to  the  guests  —  it  was  a  men's 
party  —  as  a  gentleman  from  England  on  business. 
The  guests  had  too  much  tact  to  tarry  long,  and  by 
eleven  o'clock  the  chief  and  Merton  were  ringing  at 
the  door  bell  of  Professor  Lumley.  The  servant  knew 
both  of  them,  and  ushered  them  into  the  professor's 
study.  He  was  reading  examination  papers.  Mrs. 
Lumley  had  not  returned  from  a  party.  Lumley 
greeted  Merton  warmly. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     299 

'  I  am  passing  through  Edinburgh,  and  thought  I 
might  find  you  at  home,'  Merton  said. 

'  Mr,  Macnab,'  said  Lumley,  shaking  hands  with 
the  chief,  '  you  have  not  taken  my  friend  into 
custody?  ' 

'  No,  professor ;  Mr.  Merton  will  tell  you  that  he  is 
released,  and  I  '11  be  going  home.' 

'  You  won't  stop  and  smoke?' 

'  No,  I  should  be  de  trop,'  answered  the  chief;  '  good 
night,  professor;  good  night,  Mr.  Merton.' 

'  But  the  broken  window?  ' 

'  Oh,  we  '11  settle  that,  and  let  you  have  the 
bill.' 

Merton  gave  his  club  address,  and  the  chief  shook 
hands  and  departed. 

'  Now,  what  have  you  been  doing,  Merton?'  asked 
Lumley. 

Merton  briefly  explained  the  whole  set  of  circum- 
stances, and  added,  '  Now,  Lumley,  you  are  my  sole 
hope.     You  can  give  me  a  bed  to-night?' 

'  With  all  the  pleasure  in  the  world.' 

'  And  lend  me  a  set  of  Mrs.  Lumley's  raiment  and 
a  lady's  portmanteau  ?  ' 

'Are  you  quite  mad?' 

'  No,  but  I  must  get  to  London  undiscovered,  and, 
for  certain  reasons,  with  which  I  need  not  trouble 
you,  that  is  absolutely  the  only  possible  way.  You 
remember,  at  Oxford,  I  made  up  fairly  well  for  female 
parts.' 

'  Is  there  absolutely  no  other  way? ' 

*  None,  I  have  tried  every  conceivable  plan,  men- 
tally.    Mourning  is  best,  and  a  veil.' 


300  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Lumley's  cab  was  heard, 
returning  from  her  party. 

'  Run  down  and  break  it  to  Mrs.  Lumley,'  said 
Merton.     '  Luckily  we  have  often  acted  together.' 

'Luckily  you  are  a  favourite  of  hers,'  said  Lumley. 

In  ten  minutes  the  pair  entered  the  study.  Mrs. 
Lumley,  a  tall  lady,  as  Merton  had  said,  came  in, 
laughing  and  blushing. 

'  I  shall  drive  with  you  myself  to  the  train.  My 
maid  must  be  in  the  secret,'  she  said. 

'  She  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,'  said  Merton. 
'But  I  think  you  had  better  not  come  with  me  to  the 
station.  Nobody  is  likely  to  see  me,  leaving  your 
house  about  nine,  with  my  veil  down.  But,  if  any 
one  does  see  me,  he  must  take  me  for  you.' 

'  Oh,  it  is  I  who  am  running  up  to  town  incognita?' 

'  For  a  day  or  two  —  you  will  lend  me  a  port- 
manteau to  give  local  colour?  ' 

'  With  pleasure,'  said  Mrs.  Lumley. 

'  And  Lumley  will  telegraph  to  Trevor  to  meet  you 
at  King's  Cross,  with  his  brougham,  at  6.15  p.  M.  ?' 

This  also  was  agreed  to,  and  so  ended  this  romance 
of  Bradshaw. 

IV.   Greek  meets  Greek 

At  about  twenty-five  minutes  to  seven,  on  March 
7,  the  express  entered  King's  Cross.  A  lady  of 
fashionable  appearance,  with  her  veil  down,  gazed 
anxiously  out  of  the  window  of  a  reserved  carriage. 
She  presently  detected  the  person  for  whom  she  was 
looking,  and  waved  her  parasol.     Trevor,  lifting  his 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     301 

hat,  approached ;  the  lady  had  withdrawn   into   the 
carriage,  and  he  entered. 

'Mum  's  the  word  ! '  said  the  lady. 

'  Why,  it 's  —  hang  it  all,  it 's  Merton  !  ' 

'Your  sister  is  staying  with  you?'  asked  Merton 
eagerly. 

'  Yes ;  but  what  on  earth ' 

'  I  '11  tell  you  in  the  brougham.  But  you  take  a 
weight  off  my  bosom  !  I  am  going  to  stay  with  you 
for  a  day  or  two;  and  now  my  reputation  (or  Mrs. 
Lumley's)  is  safe.  Your  servants  never  saw  Mrs. 
Lumley? ' 

'  Never,'  said  Trevor. 

'  All  right !  My  portmanteau  has  her  initials, 
S.  M.  L.,  and  a  crimson  ticket;  send  a  porter  for  it. 
Now  take  me  to  the  brougham.' 

Trevor  offered  his  arm  and  carried  the  dressing- 
bag;  the  lady  was  led  to  his  carriage.  The  port- 
manteau was  recovered,  and  they  drove  away. 

'  Give  me  a  cigarette,'  said  Merton,  '  and  I  '11  tell 
you  all  about  it.' 

He  told  Trevor  all  about  it —  except  about  the 
emu's  feathers. 

'  But  a  male  disguise  would  have  done  as  well,' 
said  Trevor. 

"  Not  a  bit.  It  would  not  have  suited  what  I  have 
to  do  in  town.  I  cannot  tell  you  why.  The  affair  is 
complex.  I  have  to  settle  it,  if  I  can,  so  that  neither 
Logan  nor  any  one  else  —  except  the  body-snatcher 
and  polite  letter-writer —  shall  ever  know  how  I  man- 
aged it.' 

Trevor  had  to  be  content  with  this  reply.     He  took 


302  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Merton,  when  they  arrived,  into  the  smoking-room, 
rang  for  tea,  and  '  squared  his  sister,'  as  he  said,  in  the 
drawing-room.  The  pair  were  dining  out,  and  after  a 
soHtary  dinner,  Merton  (in  a  tea-gown)  occupied 
himself  with  hterary  composition.  He  put  his  work 
in  a  large  envelope,  sealed  it,  marked  it  with  a  St. 
Andrew's  cross,  and,  when  Trevor  returned,  asked 
him  to  put  it  in  his  safe.  '  Two  days  after  to-morrow, 
if  I  do  not  appear,  you  must  open  the  envelope  and 
read  the  contents,'  he  said. 

After  luncheon  on  the  following  day  —  a  wet 
day — Miss  Trevor  and  Merton  (who  was  still  ar- 
rayed as  Mrs.  Lumley)  went  out  shopping.  Miss 
Trevor  then  drove  off  to  pay  a  visit  (Merton  could 
not  let  her  know  his  next  move),  and  he  himself,  his 
veil  down,  took  a  four-wheeled  cab,  and  drove  to 
Madame  Claudine's.  He  made  one  or  two  purchases, 
and  then  asked  for  the  head  of  the  establishment,  an 
Irish  lady.  To  her  he  confided  that  he  had  to  break 
a  piece  of  distressing  family  news  to  Miss  Markham, 
of  the  cloak  department ;  that  young  lady  was  sum- 
moned ;  Madame  Claudine,  with  a  face  of  sympathy, 
ushered  them  into  her  private  room,  and  went  off  to 
see  a  customer.  Miss  Markham  was  pale  and  trem- 
bling;  Merton  himself  felt  agitated. 

*  Is  it  about  my  father,  or '  the  girl  asked. 

'  Pray  be  calm,'  said  Merton.  '  Sit  down.  Both 
are  well.' 

The  girl  started.     '  Your  voice '  she  said. 

'  Exactly,'  said  Merton ;  *  you  know  me.'  And 
taking  off  his  glove,  he  showed  a  curious  mediaeval 
ring,  familiar  to  his  friends.     *  I  could  get  at  you  in 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     303 

no  other  way  than  this,'  he  said,  '  and  it  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  see  you.' 

'What  is  it?  I  know  it  is  about  my  father,'  said 
the  girl. 

'  He  has  done  us  a  great  service,'  said  Merton 
soothingly.  He  had  guessed  what  the  '  distressing 
circumstances '  were  in  which  the  marquis  had  been 
restored  to  life.  Perhaps  the  reader  guesses?  A 
discreet  person,  who  has  secretly  to  take  charge  of  a 
corpse  of  pecuniary  value,  adopts  certain  measures 
(discovered  by  the  genius  of  ancient  Egypt),  for  its 
preservation.  These  measures,  doubtless,  had  re- 
vived the  marquis,  who  thus  owed  his  life  to  his 
kidnapper. 

'  He  has,  I  think,  done  us  a  great  service,'  Merton 
repeated ;  and  the  girl's  colour  returned  to  her 
beautiful  face,  that  had  been  of  marble. 

'  Yet  there  are  untoward  circumstances,'  Merton 
admitted.  '  I  wish  to  ask  you  two  or  three  questions. 
I  must  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that  I  have  no 
intention  of  injuring  your  father.  The  reverse  ;  I  am 
really  acting  in  his  interests.  Now,  first,  he  has  prac- 
tised in  Australia.  May  I  ask  if  he  was  interested  in 
the  Aborigines  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  very  much,'  said  the  girl,  entirely  puzzled. 
'  But,'  she  added,  '  he  was  never  in  the  Labour 
trade.' 

'  Blackbird  catching?'  said  Merton.  'No.  But  he 
had,  perhaps,  a  collection  of  native  arms  and  imple- 
ments? ' 

'  Yes ;   a  very  fine  one.' 

'  Among  them  were,  perhaps,  some  curious  native 


304  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

shoes,  made  of  emu's  feathers —  they  are  called  Inter- 
linia  or,  by  white  men,  KurdaitcJia  shoes  ?  ' 

'  I  don't  remember  the  name,'  said  Miss  Markham, 
'  but  he  had  quite  a  number  of  them.  The  natives 
wear  them  to  conceal  their  tracks  when  they  go  on  a 
revenge  party.' 

Merton's  guess  was  now  a  certainty.  The  marquis 
had  spoken  of  Miss  Markham's  father  as  a  '  landloup- 
ing '  Australian  doctor.  The  footmarks  of  the  feath- 
ered shoes  in  the  snow  at  Kirkburn  proved  that  an 
article  which  only  an  Australian  (or  an  anthropolo- 
gist) was  likely  to  know  of  had  been  used  by  the 
body-snatchers. 

Merton  reflected.  Should  he  ask  the  girl  whether 
she  had  told  her  father  what,  on  the  night  of  the 
marquis's  appearance  at  the  office,  Logan  had  told 
her?  He  decided  that  this  was  superfluous;  of 
course  she  had  told  her  father,  and  the  doctor  had 
taken  his  measures  (and  the  body  of  the  marquis) 
accordingly.  To  ask  a  question  would  only  be  to 
enlighten  the  girl. 

'  That  is  very  interesting,'  said  Merton.  '  Now,  I 
won't  pretend  that  I  disguised  myself  in  this  way 
merely  to  ask  you  about  Australian  curiosities.  The 
truth  is  that,  in  your  father's  interests,  I  must  have  an 
interview  with  him.' 

'  You  don't  mean  to  do  him  any  harm?  '  asked  the 
girl  anxiously. 

'  I  have  given  you  my  word  of  honour.  As  things 
stand,  I  do  not  conceal  from  you  that  I  am  the  only 
person  who  can  save  him  from  a  situation  which  might 
be  disagreeable,  and  that  is  what  I  want  to  do.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    MISERLY    MARQUIS     305 

'  He  will  be  quite  safe  if  he  sees  you  ? '  asked  the 
girl,  wringing  her  hands. 

'  That  is  the  only  way  in  which  he  can  be  safe,  I 
am  afraid.' 

'  You  would  not  use  a  girl  against  her  own  father? ' 

'I  would  sooner  die  where  I  sit,'  said  Merton 
earnestly.  '  Surely  you  can  trust  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Logan's  —  who,  by  the  bye,  is  very  well.' 

'  Oh,  oh,'  cried  the  girl,  '  I  read  that  story  of  the 
stolen  corpse  in  the  papers.     I  understand  ! ' 

'  It  was  almost  inevitable  that  you  should  under- 
stand,' said  Merton. 

'  But  then,'  said  the  girl,  '  what  did  you  mean  by 
saying  that  my  father  has  done  you  a  great  service. 
You  are  deceiving  me.  I  have  said  too  much.  This 
is  base  !  '  Miss  Markham  rose,  her  eyes  and  cheeks 
burning. 

'  What  I  told  you  is  the  absolute  and  entire  truth,' 
said  Merton,  nearly  as  red  as  she  was. 

'  Then,'  exclaimed  Miss  Markham,  '  this  is  baser 
yet !  You  must  mean  that  by  doing  what  you  think 
he  has  done  my  father  has  somehow  enabled  Robert 
—  Mr.  Logan  —  to  come  into  the  marquis's  property. 
Perhaps  the  marquis  left  no  will,  or  the  will  —  is  gone  ! 
And  do  you  believe  that  Mr.  Logan  will  thank  you 
for  acting  in  this  way?'  She  stood  erect,  her  hand 
resting  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  indignant  and  defiant. 

'  In  the  first  place,  I  have  a  written  power  from  Mr. 
Logan  to  act  as  I  think  best.  Next,  I  have  not  even 
informed  myself  as  to  how  the  law  of  Scotland  stands 
in  regard  to  the  estate  of  a  man  who  dies  leaving  no 
will.     Lastly,  Miss  Markham,  I  am  extremely  ham- 


3o6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

pered  by  the  fact  that  Mr.  Logan  has  not  the  re- 
motest suspicion  of  what  I  suspected  —  and  now 
know  —  to  be  the  truth  as  to  the  disappearance  of 
his  cousin's  body.  I  successfully  concealed  my  idea 
from  Mr.  Logan,  so  as  to  avoid  giving  pain  to  him 
and  you.  I  did  my  best  to  conceal  it  from  you, 
though  I  never  expected  to  succeed.  And  now,  if 
you  wish  to  know  how  your  father  has  conferred  a 
benefit  on  Mr.  Logan,  I  must  tell  you,  though  I  would 
rather  be  silent.  Mr.  Logan  is  aware  of  the  benefit, 
but  will  never,  if  you  can  trust  yourself,  suspect  his 
benefactor.' 

'  I  can  never,  never  see  him  again,'  the  girl  sobbed. 

'  Time  is  flying,'  said  Merton,  who  was  familiar,  in 
works  of  fiction,  with  the  situation  indicated  by  the 
girl.  'Can  you  trust  me,  or  not?'  he  asked,  'My 
single  object  is  secrecy  and  your  father's  safety.  I 
owe  that  to  my  friend,  to  you,  and  even,  as  it  happens, 
to  your  father.  Can  you  enable  me,  dressed  as  I  am, 
to  have  an  interview  with  him?' 

'You  will  not  hurt  him?  You  will  not  give  him 
up?     You  will  not  bring  the  police  on  him?' 

'  I  am  acting  as  I  do  precisely  for  the  purpose  of 
keeping  the  police  off  him.  They  have  discovered 
nothing.' 

The  girl  gave  a  sigh  of  relief 

'  Your  father's  only  danger  would  lie  in  my  — 
failure  to  return  from  my  interview  with  him.  Against 
that  I  cannot  safeguard  him ;  it  is  fair  to  tell  you  so. 
But  my  success  in  persuading  him  to  adopt  a  certain 
course  would  be  equally  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Logan 
and  to  himself.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     307 

'  Mr.  Logan  knows  nothing?' 

'Absolutely  nothing.  I  alone,  and  now  you,  know 
anything.' 

The  girl  walked  up  and  down  in  agony. 

'  Nobody  will  ever  know  if  I  do  not  tell  you  how  to 
find  him,'  she  said. 

'  Unhappily  that  is  not  the  case.  I  only  ask  you, 
so  that  it  may  not  be  necessary  to  take  other  steps, 
tardy,  but  certain,  and  highly  undesirable.' 

'  You  will  not  go  to  him  armed? ' 

'  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour,'  said  Merton.  '  I 
have  risked  myself  unarmed  already.' 

The  girl  paused  with  fixed  eyes  that  saw  nothing. 
Merton  watched  her.     Then  she  took  her  resolve. 

'  I  do  not  know  where  he  is  living.  I  know  that  on 
Wednesdays,  that  is,  the  day  after  to-morrow,  he  is 
to  be  found  at  Dr.  Fogarty's,  a  private  asylum,  a 
house  with  a  garden,  in  Water  Lane,  Hammersmith.' 

It  was  the  lane  in  which  stood  the  Home  for 
Destitute  and  Decayed  Cats,  whither  Logan  had  once 
abducted  Rangoon,  the  Siamese  puss. 

'  Thank  you,'  said  Merton  simply.  '  And  I  am  to 
ask  for ?  ' 

'Ask  first  for  Dr.  Fogarty.  You  will  tell  him  that 
you  wish  to  see  the  Ertwa  Okiiiircha.' 

'  Ah,  Australian  for  "  The  Big  Man,'"  said  Merton. 

'  I  don't  know  what  it  means,'  said  Miss  Markham. 
'  Dr.  Fogarty  will  then  ask,  "  Have  you  the 
churinga  ?  " ' 

The  girl  drew  out  a  slim  gold  chain  which  hung 
round  her  neck  and  under  her  dress.  At  the  end  of 
it  was  a  dark  piece  of  wood,  shaped  much  like  a  large 


3o8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

cigar,  and  decorated  with  incised  concentric  circles, 
stained  red. 

'Take  that  and  show  it  to  Dr.  Fogarty,'  said  Miss 
Markham,  detaching  the  object  from  the  chain. 

Merton  returned  it  to  her.  '  I  know  where  to  get 
a  similar  churhiga,'  he  said.  '  Keep  your  own.  Its 
absence,  if  asked  for,  might  lead  to  awkward 
questions.' 

'  Thank  you,  I  can  trust  you,'  said  Miss  Markham, 
adding,  '  You  will  address  my  father  as  Dr.  Melville.' 
'  Again  thanks,  and  good-bye,'  said  Merton.     He 
bowed  and  withdrew. 

'  She  is  a  good  deal  upset,  poor  girl,'  Merton 
remarked  to  Madame  Claudine,  who,  on  going  to 
comfort  Miss  Markham  with  tea,  found  her  weeping. 
Merton  took  another  cab,  and  drove  to  Trevor's 
house. 

After  dinner  (at  which  there  were  no  guests),  and 
in  the  smoking-room,  Trevor  asked  whether  he  had 
made  any  progress. 

'  Everything  succeeded  to  a  wish,'  said  Merton. 
'You  remember  Water  Lane?' 

'  Where  Logan  carried  the  Siamese  cat  in  my  cab,' 
said  Trevor,  grinning  at  the  reminiscence.  '  Rather  ! 
I  reconnoitred  the  place  with  Logan.' 

'  Well,  on  the  day  after  to-morrow  I  have  business 
there.' 

*  Not  at  the  Cats'  Home?  ' 

'  No,  but  perhaps  you  might  reconnoitre  again. 
Do  you  remember  a  house  with  high  walls  and  spikes 
on  them?' 

*  I  do,'  said  Trevor;  '  but  how  do  you  know?     You 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     309 

never    were    there.     You    disapproved    of    Logan's 
method  in  the  case  of  the  cat.' 

'  I  never  was  there ;  I  only  made  a  guess,  because 
the  house  I  am  interested  in  is  a  private  asylum.' 

'Well,  you  guessed  right.     What  then?' 

'  You  might  reconnoitre  the  ground  to-morrow  — 
the  exits,  there  are  sure  to  be  some  towards  waste 
land  or  market  gardens.' 

'  Jolly  ! '  said  Trevor.  '  I  '11  make  up  as  a  wanderer 
from  Suffolk,  looking  for  a  friend  in  the  slums ;  semi- 
bargee  kind  of  costume.' 

'  That    would    do,'    said    Merton.     '  But   you    had  * 
better  go  in  the  early  morning.' 

'  A  nuisance.     Why  ?  ' 

'  Because,  later,  you  will  have  to  get  a  gang  of 
fellows  to  be  about  the  house  the  day  after,  when  I 
pay  my  visit.' 

'  Fellows  of  our  own  sort,  or  the  police?' 

'  Neither.  I  thought  of  fellows  of  our  own  sort. 
They  would  talk  and  guess.' 

'Better  get  some  of  Ned  Mahony's  gang? '  asked 
Trevor. 

Mr.  Mahony  was  an  ex-pugilist,  and  a  distinguished 
instructor  in  the  art  of  self-defence.  He  also  was 
captain  of  a  gang  of  '  chuckers  out.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Merton,  '  that  is  my  idea.  They  will 
guess,  too  ;  but  when  they  know  the  place  is  a  private 
lunatic  asylum  their  hypothesis  is  obvious.' 

'  They  '11  think  that  a  patient  is  to  be  rescued  ?  ' 

'  That  will  be  their  idea.  And  the  old  trick  is  a 
good  trick.  Cart  of  coals  blocked  in  the  gateway,  or 
with  another  cart  —  the  bigger   the    better  —  in  the 


3IO  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

lane.  The  men  will  dress  accordingly.  Others  will 
have  stolen  to  the  back  and  sides  of  the  house ;  you 
will,  in  short,  stop  the  earths  after  I  enter.  Your 
brougham,  after  setting  me  down,  will  wait  in 
Hammersmith  Road,  or  whatever  the  road  outside 
is.' 

'  I  may  come?  *  asked  Trevor. 

'  In  command,  as  a  coal  carter.' 

'  Hooray !  '  said  Trevor,  '  and  I  '11  tell  you  what,  I 
won't  reconnoitre  as  a  bargee,  but  as  a  servant  out 
of  livery  sent  to  look  for  a  cat  at  the  Home.  And 
I  '11  mistake  the  asylum  for  the  Home  for  Cats,  and 
try  to  scout  a  little  inside  the  gates.' 

'Capital,'  said  Merton.  'Then,  later,  I  want  you 
to  go  to  a  curiosity  shop  near  the  Museum '  (he 
mentioned  the  street),  '  and  look  into  the  window. 
You  '11  see  a  little  brown  piece  of  wood  like  this! 
Merton  sketched  rapidly  the  piece  of  wood  which 
Miss  Markham  wore  under  her  dress.  '  The  man  has 
several.  Buy  one  about  the  size  of  a  big  cigar  for 
me,  and  buy  one  or  two  other  trifles  first.' 

'  The  man  knows  me,'  said  Trevor,  '  I  have  bought 
things  from  him.' 

'  Very  good,  but  don't  buy  it  when  any  other 
customer  is  in  the  shop.  And,  by  the  way,  take 
Mrs.  Lumley's  portmanteau  —  the  lock  needs  mend- 
ing —  to  Jones's  in  Sloane  Street  to  be  repaired. 
One  thing  more,  I  should  like  to  add  a  few  lines  to 
that  manuscript  I  gave  you  to  keep  in  your  safe.' 

Trevor  brought  the  sealed  envelope.  Merton 
added  a  paragraph  and  resealed  it.  Trevor  locked  it 
up  again.. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     311 

On  the  following  day  Trevor  started  early,  did  his 
scouting  in  Water  Lane,  and  settled  with  Mr.  Mahony 
about  his  gang  of  muscular  young  prize-fighters.  He 
also  brought  the  native  Australian  curiosity,  and  sent 
Mrs.  Lumley's  portmanteau  to  have  the  lock  repaired. 
Merton  determined  to  call  at  Dr.  Fogarty's  asylum 
at  four  in  the  afternoon.  The  gang,  under  Trevor, 
was  to  arrive  half  an  hour  later,  and  to  surround  and 
enter  the  premises  if  Merton  did  not  emerge  within 
half  an  hour. 

At  four  o'clock  exactly  Trevor's  brougham  was  at 
the  gates  of  the  asylum.  The  footman  rang  the  bell, 
a  porter  opened  a  wicket,  and  admitted  a  lady  of 
fashionable  aspect,  who  asked  for  Dr.  Fogarty.     She 

was  ushered  into  his  study,  her  card  ('  Louise,  13 

Street')  was  taken  by  the  servant,  and  Dr.  Fogarty 
appeared.  He  was  a  fair,  undecided  looking  man, 
with  blue  wandering  eyes,  and  long  untidy,  reddish 
whiskers.  He  bowed  and  looked  uncomfortable,  as 
well  he  might. 

*  I  have  called  to  see  the  Erttva  Okmircha,  Dr. 
Fogarty,'  said  Merton. 

'Oh  Lord,'  said  Dr.  Fogarty,  and  murmured, 
'Another  of  his  lady  friends!'  adding,  'I  must  ask, 
Miss,  have  you  the  c/uiringa?' 

Merton  produced,  out  of  his  muff,  the  Australian 
specimen  which  Trevor  had  bought. 

The  doctor  inspected  it.  '  I  shall  take  it  to  the 
Ertwa  Okimrchay  he  said,  and  shambled  out.  Pres- 
ently he  returned.     '  He  will  see  you,  Miss.' 

Merton  found  the  redoubtable  Dr.  Markham,  an 
elderly  man,  clean  shaven,  prompt-looking,  with  very 


312  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

keen  dark  eyes,  sitting  at  a  writing  table,  with  a  few 
instruments  of  his  profession  lying  about.  The  table 
stood  on  an  oblong  space  of  uncarpeted  and  polished 
flooring  of  some  extent.  Dr.  Fogarty  withdrew,  the 
other  doctor  motioned  Merton  to  a  chair  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table.  This  chair  was  also  on  the 
uncarpeted  space,  and  Merton  observed  four  small 
brass  plates  in  the  parquet.  Arranging  his  draperies, 
and  laying  aside  his  muff,  Merton  sat  down,  slightly 
shifting  the  position  of  the  chair. 

'  Perhaps,  Dr.  Melville,'  he  said,  '  it  will  be  more 
reassuring  to  you  if  I  at  once  hold  my  hands  up,'  and 
he  sat  there  and  smiled,  holding  up  his  neatly  gloved 
hands. 

The  doctor  stared,  and  his  hand  stole  towards  an 
instrument  like  an  unusually  long  stethoscope,  which 
lay  on  his  table. 

Merton  sat  there  '  hands  up,'  still  smiling.  *  Ah, 
the  blow-tube  ? '  he  said.  '  Very  good  and  quiet ! 
Do  you  use  uralif  Infinitely  better,  at  close  quar- 
ters, than  the  noisy  old  revolver.' 

'  I  see  I  have  to  do  with  a  cool  hand,  sir,'  said  the 
doctor. 

'  Ah,'  said  Merton.  '  Then  let  us  talk  as  between 
man  and  man.'  He  tilted  his  chair  backwards,  and 
crossed  his  legs.  '  By  the  way,  as  I  have  no  Aaron 
and  Hur  to  help  me  to  hold  up  my  hands,  may  I  drop 
them?     The  attitude,  though  reassuring,  is  fatiguing.' 

'  If  you  won't  mind  first  allowing  me  to  remove 
your  muff,'  said  the  doctor.  It  lay  on  the  table  in 
front  of  Merton. 

'  By  all  means,  no  gun  in  my  muff,'  said  Merton. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     313 

'  In  fact  I  think  the  whole  pistol  business  is  overdone, 
and  second  rate.' 

'  I  presume  that  I  have  the  honour  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Merton? '  asked  the  doctor.  'You  sHpped  through 
the  cordon? ' 

'  Yes,  I  was  the  intoxicated  miner,'  said  Merton. 
'  No  doubt  you  have  received  a  report  from  your 
agents  ?  ' 

'  Stupid  fellows,'  said  the  doctor. 

'  You  are  not  flattering  to  me,  but  let  us  come  to 
business.     How  much?' 

'  I  need  hardly  ask,'  said  the  doctor,  '  it  would  be 
an  insult  to  your  intelligence,  whether  you  have  taken 
the  usual  precautions?' 

Merton,  whose  chair  was  tilted,  threw  himself  vio- 
lently backwards,  upsetting  his  chair,  and  then  scram- 
bled nimbly  to  his  feet.  Between  him  and  the  table 
yawned  a  square  black  hole  of  unknown  depth. 

'  Hardly  fair,  Dr.  Melville,'  said  he,  picking  up  the 
chair,  and  placing  it  on  the  carpet,  '  besides,  I  have 
taken  the  ordinary  precautions.  The  house  is  sur- 
rounded —  Ned  Mahony's  lambs  —  the  usual  state- 
ment is  in  the  safe  of  a  friend.  We  must  really  come 
to  the  point.  Time  is  flying,'  and  he  looked  at  his 
watch.     '  I  can  give  you  twenty  minutes.' 

'  Have  you  anything  in  the  way  of  terms  to  pro- 
pose? '  asked  the  doctor,  filling  his  pipe. 

*  Well,  first,  absolute  secrecy.  I  alone  know  the 
state  of  the  case.' 

'  Has  Mr.  Logan  no  guess? ' 

'  Not  the  faintest  suspicion.  The  detectives,  when 
I  left  Kirkburn,  had  not  even  found  the  trap  door,  you 


314  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

understand.     You  hit  on  its  discovery  through  know- 
ing the  priest's  hole  at  Oxburgh  Hall,  I  suppose?' 

The  doctor  nodded. 

'  You  can  guarantee  absolute  secrecy?'  he  asked. 

*  Naturally,  the  knowledge  is  confined  to  me,  you, 
and  your  partners.  I  want  the  secrecy  in  Mr.  Logan's 
interests,  and  you  know  why.' 

'  Well,'  said  the  doctor,  '  that  is  point  one.  So 
far  I  am  with  you.' 

*  Then,  to  enter  on  odious  details,'  said  Merton, 
'had  you  thought  of  any  terms? 

'  The  old  man  was  stiff,'  said  the  doctor,  '  and  your 
side  only  offered  to  double  him  in  your  advertisement, 
you  know.' 

*  That  was  merely  a  way  of  speaking,'  said  Merton. 
'What  did  the  marquis  propose?' 

'  Well,  as  his  offer  is  not  a  basis  of  negotiation ?' 

'Certainly  not,'  said  Merton. 

'Five  hundred  he  offered,  out  of  which  we  were  to 
pay  his  fare  back  to  Scotland.' 

Both  men  laughed. 

'  But  you  have  your  own  ideas?  '  said  Merton. 

'I  had  thought  of  15,000/.  and  leaving  England. 
He  is  a  multimillionaire,  the  marquis.' 

'It  is  rather  a  pull,'  said  Merton.  'Now  speaking 
as  a  professional  man,  and  on  honour,  how  is  his  lord- 
ship?' Merton  asked. 

'  Speaking  as  a  professional  man,  he  maj/  live  a 
year;  he  cannot  live  eighteen  months,  I  stake  my 
reputation  on  that.' 

Merton  mused. 

'  I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,'  he  said.     'We  can 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   MISERLY   MARQUIS     315 

guarantee  the  interest,  at  a  fancy  rate,  say  five  per 
cent,  during  the  marquis's  life,  which  you  reckon  as 
good  for  a  year  and  a  half,  at  most.  The  lump  sum 
we  can  pay  on  his  decease.' 

The  doctor  mused  in  his  turn. 

'  I  don't  like  it.  He  may  alter  his  will,  and  then 
—  where  do  I  come  in?  ' 

'  Of  course  that  is  an  objection,'  said  Merton.  '  But 
where  do  you  come  in  if  you  refuse?  Logan,  I  can 
assure  you  (I  have  read  up  the  Scots  law  since  I  came 
to  town),  is  the  heir  if  the  marquis  dies  intestate. 
Suppose  that  I  do  not  leave  this  house  in  a  few 
minutes,  Logan  won't  bargain  with  you ;  we  settled 
that ;  and  really  you  will  have  taken  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  to  your  own  considerable  risk.  You  see 
the  usual  document,  my  statement,  is  lodged  with 
a  friend.' 

'  There  is  certainly  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say,' 
remarked  the  doctor. 

'  Then,  to  take  a  more  cheerful  view,'  said  Merton, 
'  I  have  medical  authority  for  stating  that  any  will 
made  now,  or  later,  by  the  marquis,  would  probably 
be  upset,  on  the  ground  of  mental  unsoundness,  you 
know.  So  Logan  would  succeed,  in  spite  of  a  later 
will.' 

The  doctor  smiled.  '  That  point  I  grant.  Well,  one 
must  chance  something.  I  accept  your  proposals. 
You  will  give  me  a  written  agreement,  signed  by  Mr. 
Logan,  for  the  arrangement.' 

'  Yes,  I  have  power  to  act.' 

'  Then,  Mr.  Merton,  why  in  the  world  did  you  not 
let  your  friend  walk  in  Burlington  Arcade,  and  see  the 


3i6  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

lady?  He  would  have  been  met  with  the  same  terms, 
and  could  have  proposed  the  same  modifications.' 

'  Well,  Dr.  Melville,  first,  I  was  afraid  that  he  might 
accidentally  discover  the  real  state  of  the  case,  as  I 
surmised  that  it  existed  —  that  might  have  led  to 
family  inconveniences,  you  know.' 

'  Yes,'  the  doctor  admitted,  '  I  have  felt  that.  My 
poor  daughter,  a  good  girl,  sir !  It  wrung  my  heart- 
strings, I  assure  you.' 

'  I  have  the  warmest  sympathy  with  you,'  said  Mer- 
ton,  going  on.  '  Well,  in  the  second  place,  I  was  not 
sure  that  I  could  trust  Mr.  Logan,  who  has  rather  a 
warm  temper,  to  conduct  the  negotiations.  Thirdly, 
I  fear  I  must  confess  that  I  did  what  I  have  done  — 
well,  "  for  human  pleasure."  ' 

'  Ah,  you  are  young,'  said  the  doctor,  sighing. 

'  Now,'  said  Merton,  '  shall  I  sign  a  promise?  We 
can  call  Dr.  Fogarty  up  to  witness  it.  By  the  bye, 
what  about  "  value  received  "  ?  Shall  we  say  that 
we  purchase  your  ethnological  collection?  ' 

The  doctor  grinned,  and  assented,  the  deed  was 
written,  signed,  and  witnessed  by  Dr.  Fogarty,  who 
hastily  retreated. 

*  Now  about  restoring  the  marquis,'  said  Merton. 
'  He 's  here,  of  course ;  it  was  easy  enough  to  get  him 
into  an  asylum.  Might  I  suggest  a  gag,  if  by  chance 
you  have  such  a  thing  about  you?  To  be  removed, 
of  course,  when  once  I  get  him  into  the  house  of  a 
friend.  And  the  usual  bandage  over  his  eyes:  he 
must  never  know  where  he  has  been.' 

*  You  think  of  everything,  Mr.  Merton,'  said  the 
doctor.  '  But,  how  are  you  to  account  for  the  mar- 
quis's reappearance  alive?'  he  asked. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     317 

'Oh  that — easily!  My  first  theory,  which  I  for- 
tunately mentioned  to  his  medical  attendant,  Dr. 
Douglas,  in  the  train,  before  I  reached  Kirkburn,  was 
that  he  had  recovered  from  catalepsy,  and  had  se- 
cretly absconded,  for  the  purpose  of  watching  Mr. 
Logan's  conduct.  We  shall  make  him  believe  that 
this  is  the  fact,  and  the  old  woman  who  watched 
him ' 

'  Plucky  old  woman,'  said  the  doctor. 

*  Will  swear  to  anything  that  he  chooses  to  say.' 
'  Well,  that  is  your  affair,'  said  the  doctor. 

*  Now,'  said  Merton,  '  give  me  a  receipt  for  750/. ; 
we  shall  tell  the  marquis  that  we  had  to  spring  250/. 
on  his  original  offer.' 

The  doctor  wrote  out,  stamped,  and  signed  the 
receipt.  '  Perhaps  I  had  better  walk  in  front  of  you 
down  stairs?  '  he  asked  Merton. 

'  Perhaps  it  really  would  be  more  hospitable,'  Mer- 
ton acquiesced. 

Merton  was  ushered  again  into  Dr.  Fogarty's  room 
on  the  ground  floor.  Presently  the  other  doctor  re- 
appeared, leading  a  bent  and  much  muffled  up  figure, 
who  preserved  total  silence  —  for  excellent  reasons. 
The  doctor  handed  to  Merton  a  sealed  envelope,  ob- 
viously the  marquis's  will.  Merton  looked  closely 
into  the  face  of  the  old  marquis,  whose  eyes,  drop- 
ping senile  tears,  showed  no  sign  of  recognition. 

Dr.  Fogarty  next  adjusted  a  silken  bandage,  over  a 
wad  of  cotton  wool,  which  he  placed  on  the  eyes  of 
the  prisoner. 

Merton  then  took  farewell  of  Dr.  Melville  {alias 
Markham) ;  he  and  Dr.  Fogarty  supported  the  tot- 


3i8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

taring  steps  of  Lord  Restalrig,  and  they  led  him  to 
the  gate. 

'  Tell  the  porter  to  call  my  brougham,'  said  Merton 
to  Dr.  Fogarty. 

The  brougham  was  called  and  came  to  the  gate, 
evading  a  coal-cart  which  was  about  to  enter  the  lane. 
Merton  aided  the  marquis  to  enter,  and  said  '  Home.' 
A  few  rough  fellows,  who  were  loitering  in  the  lane, 
looked  curiously  on.  In  half  an  hour  the  marquis, 
his  gag  and  the  bandage  round  his  eyes  removed, 
was  sitting  in  Trevor's  smoking-room,  attended  to 
by  Miss  Trevor. 

It  is  probably  needless  to  describe  the  simple  and 
obvious  process  (rather  like  that  of  the  Man,  the 
Goose,  and  the  Fox)  by  which  Mrs.  Lumley,  with 
her  portmanteau,  left  Trevor's  house  that  evening  to 
pay  another  visit,  while  Merton  himself  arrived,  in 
evening  dress,  to  dinner  at  a  quarter  past  eight.  He 
had  telegraphed  to  Logan :  '  Entirely  successful. 
Come  up  by  the  11.30  to-night,  and  bring  Mrs. 
Bower.' 

The  marquis  did  not  appear  at  dinner.  He  was 
in  bed,  and,  thanks  to  a  sleeping  potion,  slumbered 
soundly.  He  awoke  about  nine  in  the  morning  to 
find  Mrs.  Bower  by  his  bedside. 

*  Eh,  marquis,  finely  we  have  jinked  them,'  said 
Mrs.  Bower  ;  and  she  went  on  to  recount  the  ingenious 
measures  by  which  the  marquis,  recovering  from  his 
'  dwawm,'  had  secretly  withdrawn  himself. 

*  I  mind  nothing  of  it,  Jeanie,  my  woman,'  said  the 
marquis.  '  I  thought  I  wakened  with  some  deevil 
running  a  knife  into  me  ;   he  might  have  gone  further. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE    MISERLY   MARQUIS     319 

and  I  might  have  fared  worse.  He  asked  for  money, 
but,  faith,  we  niffered  long  and  came  to  no  bargain. 
And  a  woman  brought  me  away.  Who  was  the 
woman? ' 

'  Oh,  dreams,'  said  Mrs.  Bower.  '  Ye  had  another 
sair  fit  o'  the  dwawming,  and  we  brought  you  here  to 
see  the  London  doctors.  Hoo  could  ony  mortal 
speerit  ye  away,  let  be  it  was  the  fairies,  and  me 
watching  you  a'  the  time !  A  fine  glifif  ye  gie'd  me 
when  ye  sat  up  and  askit  for  sma'  yill '  (small  beer). 

'  I  mind  nothing  of  it,'  replied  the  marquis.  How- 
ever, Mrs.  Bower  stuck  to  her  guns,  and  the  marquis 
was,  or  appeared  to  be,  resigned  to  accept  her  ex- 
planation. He  dozed  throughout  the  day,  but  next 
day  he  asked  for  Merton.  Their  interview  was  satis- 
factory ;  Merton  begged  leave  to  introduce  Logan, 
and  the  marquis,  quite  broken  down,  received  his 
kinsman  with  tears,  and  said  nothing  about  his 
marriage. 

'  I  'm  a  dying  man,'  he  remarked  finally,  '  but  I  '11 
live  long  enough  to  chouse  the  taxes.' 

His  sole  idea  was  to  hand  over  (in  the  old  Scottish 
fashion)  the  main  part  of  his  property  to  Logan, 
inter  vivos,  and  then  to  live  long  enough  to  evade  the 
death-duties.  Merton  and  Logan  knew  well  enough 
the  unsoundness  of  any  such  proceedings,  especially 
considering  the  mental  debility  of  the  old  gentleman. 
However,  the  papers  were  made  out.  The  marquis 
retired  to  one  of  his  English  seats,  after  which  event 
his  reappearance  was  made  known  to  the  world.  In 
his  English  home  Logan  sedulously  nursed  him.  A 
more  generous  diet  than  he  had  ever  known  before 


320  THE   DISENTANGLP:RS 

did  wonders  for  the  marquis,  though  he  peevishly 
remonstrated  against  every  bottle  of  wine  that  was 
uncorked.  He  did  live  for  the  span  which  he  deemed 
necessary  for  his  patriotic  purpose,  and  peacefully 
expired,  his  last  words  being  '  Nae  grand  funeral,' 

Public  curiosity,  of  course,  was  keenly  excited 
about  the  mysterious  reappearance  of  the  marquis  in 
life.  But  the  interviewers  could  extract  nothing  from 
Mrs,  Bower,  and  Logan  declined  to  be  interviewed. 
To  paragraphists  the  mystery  of  the  marquis  was  '  a 
two  months'  feast,'  like  the  case  of  Elizabeth  Canning, 
long  ago. 

Logan  inherited  under  the  marquis's  original  will, 
and,  of  course,  the  Exchequer  benefitted  in  the  way 
which  Lord  Restalrig  had  tried  to  frustrate. 

Miss  Markham  (whose  father  is  now  the  distin- 
guished head  of  the  ethnological  department  in  an 
American  museum)  did  not  persist  in  her  determina- 
tion never  to  see  Logan  again.  The  beautiful  Lady 
Fastcastle  never  allows  her  photograph  to  appear 
in  the  illustrated  weekly  papers.  Logan,  or  rather 
Fastcastle,  does  not  unto  this  day,  know  the  secret 
of  the  Emir's  feathers,  though,  later,  he  sorely  tried 
the  secretiveness  of  Merton,  as  shall  be  shown  in 
the  following  narrative. 


XII 

ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS 
/.    At  Castle  Skrae 


H 


little  it  can  give  of  what  we  really  desire,  while 
of  all  that  is  lost  and  longed  for  it  can  restore  nothing 
—  except  churches  —  and  to  do  that  ought  to  be  made 
a  capital  offence.' 

'  Why  do  you  contemplate  life  as  a  whole,  Mr. 
Merton?  Why  are  you  so  moral?  If  you  think  it  is 
amusing  you  are  very  much  mistaken !  Is  n't  the 
scenery,  is  n't  the  weather,  beautiful  enough  for  you  ? 
/could  gaze  for  ever  at  the  "  unquiet  bright  Atlantic 
plain,"  the  rocky  isles,  those  cliffs  of  basalt  on  either 
hand,  while  I  listened  to  the  crystal  stream  that  slips 
into  the  sea,  and  waves  the  yellow  fringes  of  the  sea- 
weed. Don't  be  melancholy,  or  I  go  back  to  the 
castle.     Try  another  line  ! ' 

'  Ah,  I  doubt  that  I  shall  never  wet  one  here,'  said 
Merton. 

'  As  to  the  crystal  stream,  what  business  has  it  to 
be  crystal?  That  is  just  what  I  complain  of.  Salmon 
and  sea-trout  are  waiting  out  there  in  the  bay,  and 
they  can't  come  up  !  Not  a  drop  of  rain,  to  call  rain, 
for  the  last  three   weeks.     That  is  what  I  meant  by 

21 


322  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

moralising  about  wealth.  You  can  buy  half  a  county, 
if  you  have  the  money ;  you  can  take  half  a  dozen 
rivers,  but  all  the  millions  of  our  host  cannot  purchase 
us  a  spate,  and  without  a  spate  you  might  as  well 
break  the  law  by  fishing  in  the  Round  Pond  as  in  the 
river.' 

'  Luckily  for  me  Alured  does  not  much  care  for 
fishing,'  said  Lady  Bude,  who  was  Merton's  com- 
panion. The  Countess  had  abandoned,  much  to  her 
lord's  regret,  the  coloured  and  figurative  language  of 
her  maiden  days,  the  American  slang.  Now  (as  may 
have  been  observed)  her  style  was  of  that  polished 
character  which  can  only  be  heard  to  perfection  in 
circles  socially  elevated  and  intellectually  cultured  — 
'  in  that  Garden  of  the  Souls  '  —  to  quote  Tennyson, 

The  spot  where  Merton  and  Lady  Bude  were  seated 
was  beautiful  indeed.  They  reclined  on  the  short  sea 
grass  above  a  shore  where  long  tresses  of  saffron-hued 
seaweed  clothed  the  boulders,  and  the  bright  sea 
pinks  blossomed.  On  their  right  the  Skrae,  now 
clearer  than  amber,  mingled  its  waters  with  the  sea 
loch.  On  their  left  was  a  steep  bank  clad  with 
bracken,  climbing  up  to  perpendicular  cliffs  of  basalt. 
These  ended  abruptly  above  the  valley  and  the  cove, 
and  permitted  a  view  of  the  Atlantic,  in  which,  far 
away,  the  isle  of  the  Lewis  lay  like  a  golden  shield  in 
the  faint  haze  of  the  early  sunset.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  sea  loch,  whose  restless  waters  ever  rushed  in 
or  out  like  a  rapid  river,  with  the  change  of  tides,  was 
a  small  village  of  white  thatched  cottages,  the  homes 
of  fishermen  and  crofters.  The  neat  crofts  lay  be- 
hind, in  oblong  strips,  on  the  side  of  the  hill.     Such 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    323 

was  the  scene  of  a  character  common  on  the  remote 
west  coast  of  Sutherland. 

'Alured  is  no  maniac  for  fishing,  luckily,'  Lady 
Bade  was  saying.     '  To-day  he  is  cat-hunting.' 

'  I  regret  it,'  said  Merton ;  '  I  profess  myself  the 
friend  of  cats.' 

'  He  is  only  trying  to  photograph  a  wild  cat  at 
home  in  the  hills ;  they  are  very  scarce.' 

*  In  fact  he  is  Jones  Harvey,  the  naturalist  again, 
for  the  nonce,  not  the  sportsman,'  said  Merton. 

*  It  was  as  Jones  Harvey  that  he '  said  Lady 

Bude,  and,  blushing,  stopped. 

'  That  he  grasped  the  skirts  of  happy  chance,'  said 
Merton. 

'Why  don't  fou  grasp  the  skirts,  Mr.  Merton?' 
asked  Lady  Bude.  '  Chance,  or  rather  Lady  Fortune, 
who  wears  the  skirts,  would,  I  think,  be  happy  to 
have  them  grasped. ' 

'  Whose  skirts  do  you  allude  to?' 

'  The  skirts,  short  enough  in  the  Highlands,  of  Miss 
Macrae,'  said  Lady  Bude ;  '  she  is  a  nice  girl,  and  a 
pretty  girl,  and  a  clever  girl,  and,  after  all,  there  are 
worse  things  than  millions.' 

Miss  Emmeline  Macrae  was  the  daughter  of  the 
host  with  whom  the  Budes  and  Merton  were  staying 
at  Skrae  Castle,  on  Loch  Skrae,  only  an  easy  mile 
and  a  half  from  the  sea  and  the  cove  beside  which 
Merton  and  Lady  Bude  were  sitting. 

'  There  is  a  seal  crawling  out  on  to  the  shore  of  the 
little  island  !  '  said  Merton.  '  What  a  brute  a  man 
must  be  who  shoots  a  seal !  I  could  watch  them  all 
day  —  on  a  day  like  this.' 


324  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'That  is  not  answering  my  question,'  said  Lady 
Bude.  'What  do  you  think  of  Miss  Macrae?  I 
know  what  you  think !  ' 

'  Can  a  humble  person  Hke  myself  aspire  to  the 
daughter  of  the  greatest  living  millionaire?  Our  host 
can  do  almost  anything  but  bring  a  spate,  and  even 
that  he  could  do  by  putting  a  dam  with  a  sluice  at 
the  foot  of  Loch  Skrae  :  a  matter  of  a  few  thousands 
only.  As  for  the  lady,  her  heart  it  is  another's,  it 
never  can  be  mine.' 

'  Whose  it  is? '  asked  Lady  Bude. 

'  Is  it  not,  or  do  my  trained  instincts  deceive  me, 
that  of  young  Blake,  the  new  poet?  Is  she  not  "  the 
girl  who  gives  to  song  what  gold  could  never  buy  "  ? 
He  is  as  handsome  as  a  man  has  no  business  to  be.' 

'  He  uses  belladonna  for  his  eyes,'  said  Lady  Bude. 
'  I  am  sure  of  it.' 

'  Well,  she  does  not  know,  or  does  not  mind,  and 
they  are  pretty  inseparable  the  last  day  or  two.' 

'  That  is  your  own  fault,'  said  Lady  Bude ;  '  you 
banter  the  poet  so  cruelly.    She  pities  him.* 

'  I  wonder  that  our  host  lets  the  fellow  keep  staying 
here,'  said  Merton.  '  If  Mr.  Macrae  has  a  foible,  ex- 
cept that  of  the  pedigree  of  the  Macraes  (who  were 
here  before  the  Macdonalds  or  Mackenzies,  and  have 
come  back  in  his  person),  it  is  scientific  inventions, 
electric  lighting,  and  his  new  toy,  the  wireless  tele- 
graph box  in  the  observatory.  You  can  see  the 
tower  from  here,  and  the  pole  with  box  on  top. 
I  don't  care  for  that  kind  of  thing  myself,  but  Macrae 
thinks  it  Paradise  to  get  messages  from  the  Central 
News  and  the  Stock  Exchange  up  here,  fifty  miles 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    325 

from  a  telegraph  post.  Well,  yesterday  Blake  was 
sneering  at  the  whole  affair.' 

'  What  is  this  wireless  machine  ?  Explain  it  to  me,' 
said  Lady  Bude. 

'  How  can  you  be  so  cruel? '  asked  Merton. 

*  Why  cruel  ?  ' 

'  Oh,  you  know  very  well  how  your  sex  receives 
explanations.     You  have  three  ways  of  doing  it.' 

'  Explain  them  !  ' 

'  Well,  the  first  way  is,  if  a  man  tries  to  explain 
what  "per  cent"  means,  or  the  difference  of"  odds 
on,"  or  "  odds  against,"  that  is,  if  they  don't  gamble, 
they  cast  their  hands  desperately  abroad,  and  cry, 
"  Oh,  don't,  I  never  ca7i  understand  !  "  The  second 
way  is  to  sit  and  smile,  and  look  intelligent,  and  think 
of  their  dressmaker,  or  their  children,  or  their  young 
man,  and  then  to  say,  "  Thank  you,  you  have  made  it 
all  so  clear  !  "  ' 

'And  the  third  way?' 

'  The  third  way  is  for  you  to  make  it  plain  to  the 
explainer  that  he  does  not  understand  what  he  is 
explaining.' 

'  Well,  try  me ;  how  does  the  wireless  machine 
work  ? ' 

'  Then,  to  begin  with  a  simple  example  in  ordinary 
life,  you  know  what  telepathy  is? ' 

'  Of  course,  but  tell  me.' 

'  Suppose  Jones  is  thinking  of  Smith,  or  rather  of 
Smith's  sister.  Jones  is  dying,  or  in  a  row,  in  India. 
Miss  Smith  is  in  Bayswater.  She  sees  Jones  in  her 
drawing-room.  The  thought  of  Jones  has  struck  a 
receiver  of  some  sort  in  the  brain,  say,  of  Miss  Smith. 


326  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

But  Miss  Smith  may  not  see  him,  somebody  else  may, 
say  her  aunt,  or  the  footman.  That  is  because  the 
aunt  or  the  footman  has  the  properly  tuned  receiver 
in  her  or  his  brain,  and  Miss  Smith  has  not.* 

'  I  see,  so  far  —  but  the  machine?  ' 

'  That  is  an  electric  apparatus  charged  with  a  mes- 
sage. The  message  is  not  conducted  by  wires,  but  is 
merely  carried  along  on  a  new  sort  of  waves,  "  Hertz 
waves,"  I  think,  but  that  does  not  matter.  They  roam 
through  space,  these  waves,  and  wherever  they  meet 
another  machine  of  the  same  kind,  a  receiver,  they 
communicate  it.' 

'  Then  everybody  who  has  such  a  machine  as  Mr. 
Macrae's  gets  all  Mr.  Macrae's  messages  for  nothing?  ' 
asked  Lady  Bude. 

'  They  would  get  them,'  said  Merton.  '  But  that  is 
where  the  artfulness  comes  in.  Two  Italian  magicians, 
or  electricians,  Messrs.  Gianesi  and  Giambresi,  have 
invented  an  improvement  suggested  by  a  dodge  of  the 
Indians  on  the  Amazon  River.  They  make  machines 
which  are  only  in  tune  with  each  other.  Their 
machine  fires  off  a  message  which  no  other  machine 
can  receive  or  tap  except  that  of  their  customer,  say 
Mr.  Macrae.  The  other  receivers  all  over  the  world 
don't  get  it,  they  are  not  in  tune.  It  is  as  if  Jones 
could  only  appear  as  a  wraith  to  Miss  Smith,  and 
"vice  versa' 

*  How  is  it  done  ? ' 

'  Oh,  don't  ask  me  !  Besides,  I  fancy  it  is  a  trade 
secret,  the  tuning.  There 's  one  good  thing  about 
it,  you  know  how  Highland  landscape  is  spoiled  by 
telegraph  posts  ? ' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    327 

'  Yes,  everywhere  there  is  always  a  telegraph  post 
in  the  foreground.' 

'Well,  Mr.  Macrae  had  them  when  he  was  here 
first,  but  he  has  had  them  all  cut  down,  bless  him, 
since  he  got  the  new  dodge.  He  was  explaining  it 
all  to  Blake  and  me,  and  Blake  only  scoffed,  would 
not  understand,  showed  he  was  bored.' 

'  I  think  it  delightful !     What  did  Mr.  Blake  say  ? ' 

'  Oh,  his  usual  stuff.  Science  is  an  expensive  and 
inadequate  substitute  for  poetry  and  the  poetic  gifts 
of  the  natural  man,  who  is  still  extant  in  Ireland. 
He  can  flash  his  thoughts,  and  any  trifles  of  news  he 
may  pick  up,  across  oceans  and  continents,  with  no 
machinery  at  all.  What  is  done  in  Khartoum  is  known 
the  same  day  in  Cairo.' 

'What  did  Mr.  Macrae  say?' 

'  He  asked  why  the  Cairo  people  did  not  make 
fortunes  on  the  Stock  Exchange.' 

'And  Mr.  Blake?' 

'  He  looked  a  great  deal,  but  he  said  nothing. 
Then,  as  I  said,  he  showed  that  he  was  bored  when 
Macrae  exhibited  to  us  the  machine  and  tried  to  teach 
us  how  it  worked,  and  the  philosophy  of  it.  Blake 
did  not  understand  it,  nor  do  I,  really,  but  of  course 
I  displayed  an  intelligent  interest.  He  did  n't  display 
any.  He  said  that  the  telegraph  thing  only  brought 
us  nearer  to  all  that  a  child  of  nature ' 

'  He  a  child  of  nature,  with  his  belladonna !  ' 

'To  all  that  a  child  of  nature  wanted  to  forget. 
The  machine  emitted  a  serpent  of  tape,  news  of 
Surrey  v.  Yorkshire,  and  something  about  Kaffirs, 
and  Macrae  was  enormously  pleased,  for  such  are  the 


328  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

simple  joys  of  the  millionaire,  really  a  child  of  nature. 
Some  of  them  keep  automatic  hydraulic  organs  and 
beastly  machines  that  sing.  Now  Macrae  is  not  a 
man  of  that  sort,  and  he  has  only  one  motor  up  here, 
and  only  uses  that  for  practical  purposes  to  bring 
luggage  and  supplies,  but  the  wireless  thing  is  the 
apple  of  his  eye.     And  Blake  sneered.' 

'  He  is  usually  very  civil  indeed,  almost  grovelling, 
to  the  father,'  said  Lady  Bude.  '  But  I  tell  you  for 
your  benefit,  Mr.  Merton,  that  he  has  no  chance  with 
the  daughter.  I  know  it  for  certain.  He  only  amuses 
her.     Now  here,  you  are  clever.' 

Merton  bowed. 

'  Clever,  or  you  would  not  have  diverted  me  from 
my  question  with  all  that  science.  You  are  not  ill 
looking.' 

'  Spare  my  blushes,'  said  Merton ;  adding,  '  Lady 
Bude,  if  you  must  be  answered,  you  are  clever  enough 
to  have  found  me  out.' 

'That  needed  less  acuteness  than  you  suppose,' 
said  the  lady. 

'  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,'  said  Merton.  '  You 
know  how  utterly  hopeless  it  is.' 

'  There  I  don't  agree  with  you,'  said  Lady  Bude. 

Merton  blushed.  '  If  you  are  right,'  he  said,  'then 
I  have  no  business  to  be  here.  What  am  I  in  the 
eyes  of  a  man  Hke  Mr.  Macrae?  An  adventurer, 
that  is  what  he  would  think  me.  I  did  think  that  I 
had  done  nothing,  said  nothing,  looked  nothing,  but 
having  the  chance  —  well,  I  could  not  keep  away 
from  her.  It  is  not  honourable.  I  must  go.  ...  I 
love  her.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    329 

Merton  turned  away  and  gazed  at  the  sunset  with- 
out seeing  it. 

Lady  Bude  put  forth  her  hand  and  laid  it  on  his. 
'  Has  this  gone  on  long?'  she  asked. 

'  Rather  an  old  story,'  said  Merton.  '  I  am  a  fool. 
That  is  the  chief  reason  why  I  was  praying  for  rain. 
She  fishes,  very  keen  on  it.  I  would  have  been  on 
the  loch  or  the  river  with  her.  Blake  does  not  fish, 
and  hates  getting  wet.' 

'You  might  have  more  of  her  company,  if  you 
would  not  torment  the  poet  so.  The  green-eyed 
monster,  jealousy,  is  on  your  back.' 

Merton  groaned.  '  I  bar  the  fellow,  anyhow,'  he 
said.  '  But,  in  any  case,  now  that  I  know  you  have 
found  me  out,  I  must  be  going.  If  only  she  were  as 
poor  as  I  am  !  ' 

'  You  can't  go  to-morrow,  to-morrow  is  Sunday,' 
said  Lady  Bude.  '  Oh,  I  am  sorry  for  you.  Can't 
we  think  of  something?  Cannot  you  find  an  opening? 
Do  something  great !  Get  her  upset  on  the  loch,  and 
save  her  from  drowning  !  Mr.  Macrae  dotes  on  her ; 
he  would  be  grateful.' 

'  Yes,  I  might  take  the  pin  out  of  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,'  said  Merton.  '  It  is  an  idea !  But  she  swims 
at  least  as  well  as  I  do.  Besides  —  hardly  sports- 
manlike.' 

Lady  Bude  tried  to  comfort  him ;  it  is  the  mission 
of  young  matrons.  He  must  not  be  in  such  a  hurry 
to  go  away.  As  to  Mr.  Blake,  she  could  entirely  re- 
assure him.  It  was  a  beautiful  evening,  the  lady  was 
fair  and  friendly ;  Nature,  fragrant  of  heather  and  of 
the  sea,  was  hushed  in  a  golden   repose.     The  two 


330  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

talked  long,  and  the  glow  of  sunset  was  fading; 
the  eyes  of  Lady  Bude  were  a  little  moist,  and  Mer- 
ton  was  feeling  rather  consoled  when  they  rose  and 
walked  back  towards  Skrae  Castle.  It  had  been  an 
ancient  seat  of  the  Macraes,  a  clan  in  relatively  mod- 
ern times,  say  1745,  rather  wild,  impoverished,  and 
dirty ;  but  Mr.  Macrae,  the  great  Canadian  miUion- 
aire,  had  bought  the  old  place,  with  many  thousands 
of  acres  '  where  victual  never  grew.' 

Though  a  landlord  in  the  Highlands  he  was  beloved, 
for  he  was  the  friend  of  crofters,  as  rent  was  no  ob- 
ject to  him,  and  he  did  not  particularly  care  for  sport. 
He  accepted  the  argument,  dear  to  the  Celt,  that 
salmon  are  ground  game,  and  free  to  all,  while  the 
natives  were  allowed  to  use  ancient  flint-locked  fusils 
on  his  black  cocks.  Mr.  Macrae  was  a  thoroughly 
generous  man,  and  a  tall,  clean-shaved,  graceful  per- 
sonage. His  public  gifts  were  large.  He  had  just 
given  500,000/.  to  Oxford  to  endow  chairs  and  students 
of  Psychical  Research,  while  the^  rest  of  the  million 
was  bestowed  on  Cambridge,  to  supply  teaching  in 
Elementary  Logic.  His  way  of  life  was  comfortable, 
but  simple,  except  where  the  comforts  of  science  and 
modern  improvements  were  concerned.  There  were 
lifts,  or  elevators,  now  in  the  castle  of  Skrae,  though 
Blake  always  went  the  old  black  corkscrew  staircases, 
holding  on  by  the  guiding  rope,  after  the  poetical 
manner  of  our  ancestors. 

On  a  knowe  which  commanded  the  castle,  in  a 
manner  that  would  have  pained  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty, 
Mr.  Macrae  had  erected,  not  a  '  sconce,'  but  an  ob- 
servatory,   with    a   telescope    that   *  licked    the  Lick 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    331 

thing,'  as  he  said.  Indeed  it  was  his  foible  '  to  see 
the  Americans  and  go  one  better,'  and  he  spoke 
without  tolerance  of  the  late  boss  American  mil- 
lionaire, the  celebrated  J.  P.  van  Huytens,  recently 
deceased. 

Duke  Humphrey  greater  wealth  computes, 
And  sticks,  they  say,  at  nothing, 

sings  the  poet.  Mr.  Macrae  computed  greater  wealth 
than  Mr.  van  Huytens,  though  avoiding  ostentation ; 
he  did  not 

Wear  a  pair  of  golden  boots, 
And  silver  underclothing. 

The  late  J.  P.  van  Huytens  he  regarded  wath  moral 
scorn.  This  rival  millionaire  had  made  his  wealth  by 
the  process  (apparently  peaceful  and  horticultural) 
of  '  watering  stocks,'  and  by  the  seemingly  misplaced 
generosity  of  overcapitalising  enterprises,  and  '  grab- 
bing side  shows.'  The  nature  of  these  and  other 
financial  misdemeanours  Merton  did  not  understand. 
But  he  learned  from  Mr.  Macrae  that  thereby  J.  P.  van 
Huytens  had  scooped  in  the  widow,  the  orphan,  the 
clergyman,  and  the  colonel.  The  two  men  had  met 
in  the  most  exclusive  circles  of  American  society; 
with  the  young  van  Huytenses  the  daughter  of  the 
millionaire  had  even  been  on  friendly  terms,  but 
Mr.  Macrae  retired  to  Europe,  and  put  a  stop  to  all 
that.  To  do  so,  indeed,  was  one  of  his  motives 
for  returning  to  the  home  of  his  ancestors,  the 
remote  and  inaccessible  Castle  Skrae.  The  Sports- 
majis  Guide  to  Scotland  says,  as  to  Loch  Skrae : 
'  Railway  to  Lairg,  then  walk  or  hire  forty-five  miles.' 


332  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  young  van  Huytenses  were  not  invited  to  walk 
or  hire. 

Van  Huytens  had  been  ostentatious,  Mr.  Macrae 
was  the  reverse.  His  costume  was  of  the  simplest, 
his  favourite  drink  (of  which  he  took  little)  was  what 
humorists  call  '  the  Hght  wine  of  the  country,' 
drowned  in  ApoUinaris  water.  His  establishment  was 
refined,  but  not  gaudy  or  luxurious,  and  the  chief 
sign  of  wealth  at  Skrae  was  the  great  observatory 
with  the  laboratory,  and  the  surmounting  '  pole  with 
box  on  top,'  as  Merton  described  the  apparatus  for 
the  new  kind  of  telegraphy.  In  the  basement  of  the 
observatory  was  lodged  the  hugest  balloon  known  to 
history,  and  a  skilled  expert  was  busied  with  novel 
experiments  in  aerial  navigation.  Happily  he  could 
swim,  and  his  repeated  descents  into  Loch  Skrae  did 
not  daunt  his  soaring  genius. 

Above  the  basement  of  the  observatory  were  rooms 
for  bachelors,  a  smoking-room,  a  billiard-room,  and  a 
scientific  library.  The  wireless  telegraphy  machine 
(looking  like  two  boxes,  one  on  the  top  of  the  other, 
to  the  eye  of  ignorance)  was  installed  in  the  smok- 
ing-room, and  a  wire  to  Mr.  Macrae's  own  rooms  in- 
formed him,  by  ringing  a  bell  (it  also  rang  in  the 
smoking-room),  when  the  machine  began  to  spread 
itself  out  in  tape  conveying  the  latest  news.  The 
machine  communicated  with  another  in  the  establish- 
ment of  its  vendors,  Messrs.  Gianesi,  Giambresi  & 
Co.,  in  Oxford  Street.  Thus  the  millionaire,  though 
residing  nearly  fifty  miles  from  the  nearest  station  at 
Lairg,  was  as  well  and  promptly  informed  as  if  he 
dwelt  in  Fleet  Street,  and   he  could   issue,  without 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    333 

a  moment's  procrastination,  his  commands  to  sell  and 
buy,  and  to  do  such  other  things  as  pertain  to  the 
nature  of  millionaires.  When  we  add  that  a  steam 
yacht  of  great  size  and  comfort,  doing  an  incredible 
number  of  knots  an  hour  on  the  turbine  system,  lay 
at  anchor  in  the  sea  loch,  we  have  indicated  the 
main  peculiarities  of  Mr.  Macrae's  rural  establish- 
ment. Wealth,  though  Merton  thought  so  poorly 
of  it,  had  supplied  these  potentialities  of  enjoyment; 
but,  alas  !  disease  had  '  decimated  '  the  grouse  on  the 
moors  (of  course  to  decimate  now  means  almost  to 
extirpate),  and  the  crofters  had  increased  the  pleas- 
ures of  stalking  by  making  the  stags  excessively  shy, 
thus  adding  to  the  arduous  enjoyment  of  the  true 
sportsman. 

To  Castle  Skrae,  being  such  as  we  have  described, 
Lady  Bude  and  Merton  returned  from  their  sentimental 
prowl.  They  found  Miss  Macrae,  in  a  very  short  skirt 
of  the  Macrae  tartan,  trying  to  teach  Mr.  Blake  to 
play  ping-pong  in  the  great  hall. 

We  must  describe  the  young  lady,  though  her  charms 
outdo  the  powers  of  the  vehicle  of  prose.  She  was 
tall,  sHm,  and  graceful,  light  of  foot  as  a  deer  on  the 
corrie.  Her  hair  was  black,  save  when  the  sun  shone 
on  it  and  revealed  strands  of  golden  brown ;  it  was 
simply  arrayed,  and  knotted  on  the  whitest  and  shape- 
liest neck  in  Christendom.  Her  eyebrows  were  dark, 
her  eyes  large  and  lucid. 

The  greyest  of  things  blue, 
The  bluest  of  things  grey. 

Her  complexion  was  of  a  clear  pallor,  like  the  white 
rose  beloved  by  her  ancestors;   her  features  were  all 


334  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

but  classic,  with  the  charm  of  romance ;  but  what 
made  her  unique  was  her  mouth.  It  was  faintly 
upturned  at  the  corners,  as  in  archaic  Greek  art;  she 
had,  in  the  slightest  and  most  gracious  degree,  what 
Logan,  describing  her  once,  called  '  the  ^ginetan 
grin.'  This  gave  her  an  air  peculiarly  gay  and  win- 
some, brilliant,  joyous,  and  alert.  In  brief,  to  use 
Chaucer's  phrase, 

She  was  as  wincy  as  a  wanton  colt,      • 
Sweet  as  a  flower,  and  upright  as  a  bolt. 

She  was  the  girl  who  was  teaching  the  poet  the  ele- 
ments of  ping-pong.  The  poet  usually  missed  the 
ball,  for  he  w^as  averse  to  and  unapt  for  anything 
requiring  quickness  of  eye  and  dexterity  of  hand.  On 
a  seat  lay  open  a  volume  of  the  Poetry  of  the  Celtic 
Renasce7ice,  which  Blake  had  been  reading  to  Miss 
Macrae  till  she  used  the  vulgar  phrase  '  footle,'  and 
invited  him  to  be  educated  in  ping-pong.  Of  these 
circumstances  she  cheerfully  informed  the  new-comers, 
adding  that  Lord  Bude  had  returned  happy,  having 
photographed  a  wild  cat  in  its  lair. 

'  Did  he  shoot  it?'  asked  Blake. 

'  No.     He  's  a  sportsman  !  '  said  Miss  Macrae. 

'  That  is  why  I  supposed  he  must  have  shot  the  cat,' 
answered  Blake. 

'What  is  Gaelic  for  a  wild  cat,  Blake?'  asked 
Merton  unkindly. 

Like  other  modern  Celtic  poets  Mr.  Blake  was 
entirely  ignorant  of  the  melodious  language  of  his  an- 
cestors, though  it  had  often  been  stated  in  the  literary 
papers  that  he  was  *  going  to  begin  '  to  take  lessons. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    335 

'  Sans  purr,"  answered  Blake;  'the  Celtic  wild  cat 
has  not  the  servile  accomplishment  of  purring.  The 
words,  a  little  altered,  are  the  motto  of  the  Argyle 
and  Sutherland  Highlanders.  This  is  the  country  of 
the  wild  cat.' 

'  I  thought  the  "  wild  cat"  was  a  peculiarly  Ameri- 
can financial  animal,'  said  Merton. 

Miss  Macrae  laughed,  and,  the  gong  sounding  (by 
electricity,  the  wire  being  connected  with  the  Green- 
wich Observatory),  she  ran  lightly  up  the  central 
staircase.  Lady  Bude  had  hurried  to  rejoin  her  lord  ; 
Merton  and  Blake  sauntered  out  to  their  rooms  in 
the  observatory,  Blake  with  an  air  of  fatigue  and 
languor. 

'  Learning  ping-pong  easily?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  I  have  more  hopes  of  teaching  Miss  Macrae  the 
essential  and  intimate  elements  of  Celtic  poetry,'  said 
Blake.  '  One  box  of  books  I  brought  with  me, 
another  arrived  to-day.  I  am  about  to  begin  on  my 
Celtic  drama  of"  Con  of  the  Hundred  Battles."  * 

'  Have  you  the  works  of  the  ancient  Sennachie, 
Macfootle?'  asked  Merton.  He  was  jealous,  and  his 
usual  urbanity  was  sorely  tried  by  the  Irish  bard. 
In  short,  he  was  rude ;   stupid,  too. 

However,  Blake  had  his  revenge  after  dinner,  on  the 
roof  of  the  observatory,  where  the  ladies  gathered 
round  him  in  the  faint  silver  light,  looking  over  the 
sleeping  sea.  '  Far  away  to  the  west,'  he  said,  '  lies 
the  Celtic  paradise,  the  Isle  of  Apples  ! ' 

'  American  apples  are  excellent,'  said  Merton,  but 
the  beauty  of  the  scene  and  natural  courtesy  caused 
Miss  Macrae  to  whisper  '  Hush  !  ' 


336  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  poet  went  on,  '  May  I  speak  to  you  the  words 
of  the  emissary  from  the  lovely  land?  ' 

'The  mysterious  female?'  said  Merton  brutally. 
*  Dr.  Hyde  calls  her  "  a  mysterious  female."  It  is  in 
his  Literary  History  of  Ireland! 

'  Pray  let  us  hear  the  poem,  Mr.  Merton,'  said  Miss 
Macrae,  attuned  to  the  charm  of  the  hour  and  the 
scene. 

'  She  came  to  Bran's  Court,'  said  Blake,  '  from  the 
Isle  of  Apples,  and  no  man  knew  whence  she  came, 
and  she  chanted  to  them.' 

'  Twenty-eight  quatrains,  no  less,  a  hundred  and 
twelve  lines,'  said  the  insufferable  Merton.  '  Could 
you  give  us  them  in  Gaelic?  ' 

The  bard  went  on,  not  noticing  the  interruption,  '  I 
shall  translate 

'  There  is  a  distant  isle 
Around  which  sea  horses  glisten, 
A  fair  course  against  the  white  swelling  surge. 
Four  feet  uphold  it.' 

'Feet  of  white  bronze  under  it.' 
'  White  bronze,  what 's  that,  eh?  '  asked  the  practical 
Mr.  Macrae. 

'  Glittering  through  beautiful  ages  ! 
Lovely  land  through  the  world's  age, 
On  which  the  white  blossoms  drop.' 

'  Beautiful ! '  said  Miss  Macrae. 

'There  are  twenty-six  more  quatrains,'  said  Merton. 

The  bard  went  on, 

'  A  beautiful  game,  most  delightful. 
They  play ' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    337 

'Ping-pong?  '  murmured  Merton. 

'  Hush  !  '  said  Lady  Bude. 

Miss  Macrae  turned  to  the  poet. 

'  They  play,  sitting  at  the  luxurious  wine, 
Men  and  gentle  women  under  a  bush, 
Without  sin,  without  crime.' 

'They  are  playing  still,'  Blake  added.  'Unbeheld, 
undisturbed  !  I  verily  believe  there  is  no  Gael  even 
now  who  would  not  in  his  heart  of  hearts  let  drift  by 
him  the  Elysiums  of  Virgil,  Dante,  and  Milton,  to 
grasp  at  the  Moy  Mell,  the  Apple  Isle,  of  the  un- 
known Irish  pagan !  And  then  to  play  sitting  at  the 
luxurious  wine, 

'  Men  and  gentle  women  under  a  bush  ! ' 

'  It  really  cannot  have  been  ping-pong  that  they 
played  at,  sitting.  Bridge,  more  likely,'  said  Merton. 
'  And  "  good  wine  needs  no  bush  !  "  ' 

The  bard  moved  away,  accompanied  by  his  young 
hostess,  who  resented  Merton's  cynicism. 

'  Tell  me  more  of  that  lovely  poem,  Mr.  Blake,'  she 
said. 

'  I  am  jangled  and  out  of  tune,'  said  Blake  wildly. 
'  The  Sassenach  is  my  torture !  Let  me  take  your 
hand,  it  is  cool  as  the  hands  of  the  foam-footed 
maidens  of — of — what's  the  name  of  the  place?' 

'  Was  it  Clonmell?  '  asked  Miss  Macrae,  letting  him 
take  her  hand. 

He  pressed  it  against  his  burning  brow. 

'  Though  you  laugh  at  me,'  said  Blake,  '  sometimes 
you  are  kind  !     I  am  upset — I  hardly  know  myself. 


338  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

What  is  yonder  shape  skirting  the  lawn?  Is  it  the 
Daoine  Sidh? ' 

'Why  do  you  call  her  "the  downy  she"?  She  is 
no  more  artful  than  other  people.  She  is  my  maid, 
Elspeth  Mackay,'  answered  Miss  Macrae,  puzzled. 
They  were  alone,  separated  from  the  others  by  the 
breadth  of  the  roof. 

'  I  said  the  Daoine  Sidh'  replied  the  poet,  spelling 
the  words.     '  It  means  the  People  of  Peace.' 

'  Quakers? ' 

'No,  the  fairies,'  groaned  the  misunderstood  bard, 
'  Do  you  know  nothing  of  your  ancestral  tongue?  Do 
you  call  yourself  a  Gael  ?  ' 

'  Of  course  I  call  myself  a  girl,'  answered  Miss 
Macrae.  '  Do  you  want  me  to  call  myself  a  young 
lady?' 

The  poet  sighed.  '  I  thought  you  understood  me,' 
he  said.  '  Ah,  how  to  escape,  how  to  reach  the  undis- 
covered West !  ' 

'  But  Columbus  discovered  it,'  said  Miss  Macrae. 

'  The  undiscovered  West  of  the  Celtic  heart's 
desire,'  explained  the  bard ;  '  the  West  below  the 
waters !  Thither  could  we  twain  sail  in  the  magic 
boat  of  Bran  !     Ah  see,  the  sky  opens  like  a  flower  !  ' 

Indeed,  there  was  a  sudden  glow  of  summer  light- 
ning. 

'That  looks  more  like  rain,'  said  Merton,  who  was 
standing  with  the  Budes  at  an  opposite  corner  of  the 
roof. 

'  I  say,  Merton,'  asked  Bude,  '  how  can  you  be  so 
uncivil  to  that  man?     He  took  it  very  well.' 

'  A  rotter,'  said   Merton.     '  He  has  just  got  that 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    339 

stuff  by  heart,  the  verse  and  a  lot  of  the  prose,  out  of 
a  book  that  I  brought  down  myself,  and  left  in  the 
smoking-room.    I  can  show  you  the  place  if  you  like.' 

'  Do,  Mr.  Merton.  But  how  foolish  you  are  !  do  be 
civil  to  the  man,'  whispered  Lady  Bude,  who  shared 
his  disbelief  in  Blake  ;  and  at  that  moment  the  tinkle 
of  an  electric  bell  in  the  smoking-room  below  reached 
the  expectant  ears  of  Mr,  Macrae. 

'  Come  down,  all  of  you,'  he  said.  '  The  wireless 
telegraphy  is  at  work.' 

He  waited  till  they  were  all  in  the  smoking-room, 
and  feverishly  examined  the  tape. 

*  Escape  of  De  Wet,'  he  read.  '  Disasters  to  the 
Imperial  Yeomanry.  Strike  of  Cigarette  Makers. 
Great  Fire  at  Hackney.' 

*  There  !  '  he  exclaimed  triumphantly.  '  We  might 
have  gone  to  bed  in  London,  and  not  known  all  that 
till  we  got  the  morning  papers  to-morrow.  And  here 
we  are  fifty  miles  from  a  railway  station  or  a  tele- 
graph office  —  no,  we're  nearer  Inchnadampf 

'  Would  that  /  were  in  the  Isle  of  Apples,  Mell 
Moy,  far,  far  from  civilisation ! '  said  Blake. 

"  There  shall  be  no  grief  there  or  sorrow,"  so  sings 
the  minstrel  of  The  Wooing  of  Etain. 

"  Fresh  flesh  of  swine,  banquets  of  new  milk  and 
ale  shalt  thou  have  with  me  then,  fair  lady,"  Merton 
read  out  from  the  book  he  had  been  speaking  of  to 
the  Budes. 

'Jolly  place,  the  Celtic  Paradise!  Fresh  flesh  of 
swine,  banquets  of  ale  and  new  milk.     Quel  luxe  ! ' 

'  Is  that  the  kind  of  entertainment  you  were  offer- 
ing me,  Mr.  Blake?'  asked  Miss  Macrae  gaily.     '  Mr. 


340  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

Blake,'  she  went  on,  '  has  been  inviting  me  to  fly  to 
the  undiscovered  West  beneath  the  waters,  in  the 
magic  boat  of  Bran.' 

'Did  Bran  invent  the  submarine?'  asked  Mr. 
Macrae,  and  then  the  company  saw  what  they  had 
never  seen  before,  the  bard  blushing.  He  seemed  so 
discomposed  that  Miss  Macrae  took  compassion  on 
him. 

'  Never  mind  my  father,  Mr.  Blake,'  she  said,  '  he  is 
a  very  good  Highlander,  and  believes  in  Eachain  of 
the  Hairy  Arm  as  much  as  the  crofters  do.  Have 
you  heard  of  Eachain,  Mr.  Blake?  He  is  a  spectre 
in  full  Highland  costume,  attached  to  our  clan.  When 
we  came  here  first,  to  look  round,  we  had  only  horses 
hired  from  Edinburgh,  and  a  Lowlander  —  mark  you, 
a  Lowlander — to  drive.  He  was  in  the  stable  one 
afternoon  —  the  old  stable,  we  have  pulled  it  down  — 
when  suddenly  the  horses  began  to  kick  and  rear. 
He  looked  round  to  the  open  door,  and  there  stood 
a  huge  Highlander  in  our  tartans,  with  musket, 
pistols,  claymore,  dirk,  skian,  and  all,  and  soft  brogues 
of  untanned  leather  on  his  feet.  The  coachman,  in  a 
panic,  made  a  blind  rush  at  the  figure,  but  behold, 
there  was  nobody,  and  a  boy  outside  had  seen  no 
man.  The  horses  were  trembling  and  foaming.  Now 
it  was  a  Lowlander  from  Teviotdale  that  saw  the 
man,  and  the  crofters  were  delighted.  They  said  the 
figure  was  the  chief  that  fell  at  Culloden,  come  to 
welcome  us  back.  So  you  must  not  despair  of  us, 
Mr.  Blake,  and  you,  that  have  "  the  sight,"  may  see 
Eachain  yourself,  who  knows?' 

This  happy  turn  of  the  conversation  exactly  suited 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    341 

Blake.  He  began  to  be  very  amusing  about  magic, 
and  brownies,  and  *  the  downy  she,'  as  Miss  Macrae 
called  the  People  of  Peace.  The  ladies  presently 
declared  that  they  were  afraid  to  go  to  bed ;  so  they 
went.  Miss  Macrae  indicating  her  displeasure  to 
Merton  by  the  coldness  of  her  demeanour. 

The  men,  who  were  rather  dashed  by  the  pleasant 
intelligence  which  the  telegraph  had  communicated, 
sat  up  smoking  for  a  while,  and  then  retired  in  a 
subdued  state  of  mind. 

Next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  Merton  appeared 
rather  late  at  breakfast,  late  and  pallid.  After  a 
snatch  of  disturbed  slumber,  he  had  wakened,  or 
seemed  to  waken,  fretting  a  good  deal  over  the 
rusticity  of  his  bearing  towards  Blake,  and  over  his 
hopeless  affair  of  the  heart.  He  had  vexed  his  lady. 
'  If  he  is  good  enough  for  his  hosts,  he  ought  to  be 
good  enough  for  their  guests,'  thought  Merton. 
'  What  a  brute,  what  a  fool  I  am ;  I  ought  to  go.  I 
will  go  !  I  ought  not  to  take  coffee  after  dinner,  I 
know  I  ought  not,  and  I  smoke  too  much,'  he  added, 
and  finally  he  went  to  breathe  the  air  on  the  roof 

The  night  was  deadly  soft  and  still,  a  slight  mist 
hid  the  furthest  verges  of  the  sea's  horizon.  Behind 
it,  the  summer  Hghtning  seemed  like  portals  that 
opened  and  shut  in  the  heavens,  revealing  a  glory 
without  form,  and  closing  again. 

'  I  don't  wonder  that  these  Irish  poets  dreamed  of 
Isles  of  Paradise  out  there : 

'  Lands  undiscoverable  in  the  unheard-of  West, 
Round  which  the  strong  stream  of  a  sacred  sea 
Runs  without  wind  for  ever,' 


342  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

thought  Merton.  '  Chicago  is  the  reaHsation  of  their 
dream.  Hullo,  there  are  the  lights  of  a  big  steamer, 
and  a  very  low  one  behind  it !     Queer  craft ! ' 

Merton  watched  the  lights  that  crossed  the  sea, 
when  either  the  haze  deepened  or  the  fainter  light  on 
the  smaller  vessel  vanished,  and  the  larger  ship 
steamed  on  in  a  southerly  direction.  '  Magic  boat 
of  Bran  !  '  thought  Merton.  He  turned  and  entered 
the  staircase  to  go  back  to  his  room.  There  was  a 
lift,  of  course,  but,  equally  of  course,  there  was  no- 
body to  manage  it.  Merton,  who  had  a  lighted 
bedroom-candle  in  his  hand,  descended  the  spiral 
staircase ;  at  a  turning  he  thought  he  saw,  '  with  the 
tail  of  his  eye,'  a  plaid,  draping  a  tall  figure  of  a 
Highlander,  disappear  round  the  corner.  Nobody 
in  the  castle  wore  the  kilt  except  the  piper,  and  he 
had  not  rooms  in  the  observatory.  Merton  ran  down 
as  fast  as  he  could,  but  he  did  not  catch  another  view 
of  the  plaid  and  its  wearer,  or  hear  any  footsteps.  He 
went  to  the  bottom  of  the  staircase,  opened  the  outer 
door,  and  looked  forth.  Nobody  !  The  electric  light 
from  the  open  door  of  his  own  room  blazed  across  the 
landing  on  his  return.  All  was  perfectly  still,  and 
Merton  remembered  that  he  had  not  heard  the  foot- 
steps of  the  appearance.  '  Was  it  Eachain  ?  '  he  asked 
himself.     'Do  I  sleep,  do  I  dream?' 

He  went  back  to  bed  and  slumbered  uneasily. 
He  seemed  to  be  awake  in  his  room,  in  broad  light, 
and  to  hear  a  slow  drip,  drip,  on  the  floor.  He  looked 
up  ;  the  roof  was  stained  with  a  great  dark  splash  of 
a  crimson  hue.  He  got  out  of  bed,  and  touched  the 
wet  spot  on  the  floor  under  the  blotch  on  the  ceiling. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    343 

His  fingers  were  reddened  with  blood !  He  woke  at 
the  horror  of  it :  found  himself  in  bed  in  the  dark, 
pressed  an  electric  knob,  and  looked  at  the  ceiling. 
It  was  dry  and  white.  '  I  certainly  have  been  smok- 
ing too  much  lately,'  thought  Merton,  and,  switching 
off  the  light,  he  slumbered  again,  so  soundly  that  he 
did  not  hear  the  piper  playing  round  the  house,  or 
the  man  who  brought  his  clothes  and  hot  water,  or 
the  gong  for  breakfast. 

When  he  did  wake,  he  was  surprised  at  the  lateness 
of  the  hour,  and  dressed  as  rapidly  as  possible.  '  I 
wonder  if  I  was  dreaming  when  I  thought  that  I  went 
out  on  the  roof,  and  saw  mountains  and  marvels,'  said 
Merton  to  himself  '  A  queer  thing,  the  human  mind,' 
he  reflected  sagely.  It  occurred  to  him  to  enter  the 
smoking-room  on  his  way  downstairs.  He  routed 
two  maids  who  perhaps  had  slept  too  late,  and  were 
hurriedly  making  the  room  tidy.  The  sun  was  beat- 
ing in  at  the  window,  and  Merton  noticed  some  tiny 
glittering  points  of  white  metallic  light  on  the  carpet 
near  the  new  telegraphic  apparatus.  *  I  don't  believe 
these  lazy  Highland  Maries  have  swept  the  room 
properly  since  the  electric  machine  was  put  up,' 
Merton  thought.  He  hastily  seized,  and  took  to  his 
chamber,  his  book  on  old  Irish  literature,  w^hich  was 
too  clearly  part  of  Blake's  Celtic  inspiration.  Merton 
wanted  no  more  quatrains,  but  he  did  mean  to  try  to 
be  civil.  He  then  joined  the  party  at  breakfast;  he 
admitted  that  he  had  slept  ill,  but,  when  asked  by 
Blake,  disclaimed  having  seen  Eachain  of  the  Hairy 
Arm,  and  did  not  bore  or  bewilder  the  company  with 
his  dreams. 


344  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Miss  Macrae,  in  sabbatical  raiment,  was  fresher 
than  a  rose  and  gay  as  a  lark.  Merton  tried  not 
to  look  at  her;   he  failed  in  this  endeavour. 


//.  Lost 

The  day  was  Sunday,  and  Merton,  who  had  a  holy 
horror  of  news,  rejoiced  to  think  that  the  telegraphic 
machine  would  probably  not  tinkle  its  bell  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  This  was  not  the  ideal  of  the  millionaire. 
Things  happen,  intelligence  arrives  from  the  limits  of 
our  vast  and  desirable  empire,  even  on  the  Day  of 
Rest.  But  the  electric  bell  was  silent.  Mr.  Macrae, 
from  patriotic  motives,  employed  a  Highland  engineer 
and  mechanician,  so  there  was  nothing  to  be  got  out 
of  him  in  the  way  of  work  on  the  sabbath  day.  The 
millionaire  himself  did  not  quite  understand  how  to 
work  the  thing.  He  went  to  the  smoking-room  where 
it  dwelt  and  looked  wistfully  at  it,  but  was  afraid  to 
try  to  call  up  his  correspondents  in  London.  As  for 
the  usual  manipulator,  Donald  McDonald,  he  had 
started  early  for  the  distant  Free  Kirk.  An  '  Unionist' 
minister  intended  to  try  to  preach  himself  in,  and  the 
majority  of  the  congregation,  being  of  the  old  Free 
Kirk  rock,  and  averse  to  union  with  the  United 
Presbyterians,  intended  to  try  to  keep  him  out. 
They  '  had  a  lad  with  the  gift  who  would  do  the 
preaching  fine,'  and  as  there  was  no  poHce-station 
within  forty  miles  it  seemed  fairly  long  odds  on  the 
Free  Kirk  recalcitrants.  However,  there  was  a  reso- 
lute minority  of  crofters  on  the  side  of  the  minister, 
and  every  chance  of  an    ecclesiastical    battle  royal. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    345 

Accompanied  by  the  stalker,  two  keepers,  and  all  the 
gardeners,  armed  with  staves,  the  engineer  had  early- 
set  out  for  the  scene  of  brotherly  amity,  and  Mr. 
Macrae  had  reluctantly  to  admit  that  he  was  cut  off 
from  his  communications. 

Merton,  who  was  with  him  in  the  smoking-room, 
mentally  absolved  the  Highland  housemaids.  If  they 
had  not  swept  up  the  tiny  glittering  metallic  points  on 
the  carpet  before,  they  had  done  so  now.  Only  two 
or  three  caught  his  eye. 

Mr.  Macrae,  avid  of  news,  accommodated  himself 
in  an  arm-chair  with  newspapers  of  two  or  three  days 
old,  from  which  he  had  already  sucked  the  heart  by 
aid  of  his  infernal  machine.  The  Budes  and  Blake, 
with  Miss  Macrae  (an  Anglican),  had  set  off  to  walk 
to  the  Catholic  chapel,  some  four  miles  away,  for 
crofting  opinion  was  resolute  against  driving  on  the 
Lord's  Day.  Merton,  self-denying  and  resolved,  did 
not  accompany  his  lady ;  he  read  a  novel,  wrote 
letters,  and  felt  desolate.  All  was  peace,  all  breathed 
of  the  Sabbath  calm. 

'  Very  odd  there  's  no  call  from  the  machine,'  said 
Mr.  Macrae  anxiously. 

'  It  is  Sunday,'  said  Merton. 

'  Still,  they  might  send  us  something.' 

'  They  scarcely  favoured  us  last  Sunday,'  said 
Merton. 

'  No,  and  now  I  think  of  it,  not  at  all  on  the  Sunday 
before,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.     '  I  dare  say  it  is  all  right.' 

'  Would  a  thunder-storm  further  south  derange  it?' 
asked  Merton,  adding,  '  There  was  a  lot  of  summer 
lightning  last  night.' 


346  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  That  might  be  it ;  these  things  have  their  tempers. 
But  they  are  a  great  comfort.  I  can't  think  how  we 
ever  did  without  them,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  as  if  these 
things  were  common  in  every  cottage.  *  Wonderful 
thing,  science  !  '  he  added,  in  an  original  way,  and 
Merton,  who  privately  detested  science,  admitted  that 
it  was  so. 

'Shall  we  go  to  see  the  horses?'  suggested  Mr. 
Macrae,  and  they  did  go  and  stare,  as  is  usual  on 
Sunday  in  the  country,  at  the  hind-quarters  of  these 
noble  animals.  Merton  strove  to  be  as  much  in- 
terested as  possible  in  Mr.  Macrae's  stories  of  his  fleet 
American  trotters.  But  his  heart  was  otherwhere. 
'  They  will  soon  be  an  extinct  species,'  said  Mr. 
Macrae.     '  The  motor  has  come  to  stay.' 

Merton  was  not  feeling  very  well,  he  was  afraid  of 
a  cigarette,  Mr.  Macrae's  conversation  was  not  bril- 
liant, and  Merton  still  felt  as  if  he  were  under  the 
wrath,  so  well  deserved,  of  his  hostess.  She  did  not 
usually  go  to  the  Catholic  chapel ;  to  be  sure,  in  the 
conditions  prevailing  at  the  Free  Kirk  place  of  wor- 
ship, she  had  no  alternative  if  she  would  not  abstain 
wholly  from  religious  privileges.  But  Merton  felt 
sure  that  she  had  really  gone  to  comfort  and  console 
the  injured  feelings  of  Blake.  Probably  she  would 
have  had  a  little  court  of  lordlings,  Merton  reflected 
(not  that  Mr.  Macrae  had  any  taste  for  them),  but 
everybody  knew  that,  what  with  the  weather,  and  the 
crofters,  and  the  grouse  disease,  the  sport  at  Castle 
Skrae  was  remarkably  bad.  So  the  party  was  tiny, 
though  a  number  of  people  were  expected  later,  and 
Merton  and  the  heiress  had  been  on  what,  as  he  rue- 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    347 

fully  reflected,  were  very  kind  terms  —  rather  more 
than  kind,  he  had  hoped,  or  feared,  now  and  then. 
Merton  saw  that  he  had  annoyed  her,  and  thrown  her, 
metaphorically  speaking,  into  the  arms  of  the  Irish 
minstrel.  All  the  better,  perhaps,  he  thought,  rue- 
fully. The  poet  was  handsome  enough  to  be  one  that 
'  limners  loved  to  paint,  and  ladies  to  look  upon.'  He 
generally  took  chaff  well,  and  could  give  it,  as  well  as 
take  it,  and  there  were  hours  when  his  sentiment  and 
witchery  had  a  chance  with  most  women.  *  But  Lady 
Bude  says  there  is  nothing  in  it,  and  women  usually 
know,'  he  reflected.  Well,  he  must  leave  the  girl,  and 
save  his  self-respect. 

When  nothing  more  in  the  way  of  pottering  could 
be  done  at  the  stables,  when  its  proprietor  had  ex- 
hausted the  pleasure  of  staring  at  the  balloon  in  its 
hall,  and  had  fed  the  fowls,  he  walked  with  Merton 
down  the  avenue,  above  the  skrunken  burn  that 
whispered  among  its  ferns  and  alders,  to  meet  the 
returning  church-goers.  The  Budes  came  first,  to- 
gether; they  were  still,  they  were  always,  honey- 
mooning. Mr.  Macrae  turned  back  with  Lady  Bude ; 
Merton  walked  with  Bude,  Blake  and  Miss  Macrae 
were  not  yet  in  sight.  He  thought  of  walking  on  to 
meet  them  —  but  no,  it  must  not  be. 

'  Blake  owes  you  a  rare  candle,  Merton,'  said  Bude, 
adding,  '  A  great  deal  may  be  done,  or  said,  in  a  long 
walk  by  a  young  man  with  his  advantages.  And  if 
you  had  not  had  your  knife  in  him  last  night  I  do  not 
think  she  would  have  accompanied  us  this  morning  to 
attend  the  ministrations  of  Father  McCoU.  He 
preached  in  Gaelic,' 


348  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  That  must  have  been  edifying,'  said  Merton, 
wincing. 

'  The  effect,  when  one  does  not  know  the  language, 
and  is  within  six  feet  of  an  energetic  Celt  in  the 
pulpit,  is  rather  odd,'  said  Bude.  '  But  you  have  put 
your  foot  in  it,  not  a  doubt  of  that.' 

This  appeared  only  too  probable.  The  laggards 
arrived  late  for  luncheon,  and  after  luncheon  Miss 
Macrae  allowed  Blake  to  read  his  manuscript  poems 
to  her  in  the  hall,  and  to  discuss  the  prospects  of  the 
Celtic  drama.  Afterwards,  fearing  to  hurt  the  reli- 
gious sentiments  of  the  Highland  servants  by  playing 
ping-pong  on  Sunday  in  the  hall,  she  instructed  him 
elsewhere,  and  clandestinely,  in  that  pastime  till  the 
hour  of  tea  arrived. 

Merton  did  not  appear  at  the  tea-table.  Tired  of 
this  Castle  of  Indolence,  loathing  Blake,  afraid  of  more 
talk  with  Lady  Bude,  eating  his  own  heart,  he  had 
started  alone  after  luncheon  for  a  long  walk  round 
the  loch.  The  day  had  darkened,  and  was  deadly 
still ;  the  water  was  like  a  mirror  of  leaden  hue ;  the 
air  heavy  and  sulphurous. 

These  atmospheric  phenomena  did  not  gladden  the 
heart  of  Merton.  He  knew  that  rain  was  coming,  but 
he  would  not  be  with  her  by  the  foaming  stream,  or  on 
the  black  waves  of  the  loch.  Climbing  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  he  felt  sure  that  a  storm  was  at  hand.  On  the 
east,  far  away,  Clibrig,  and  Suilvean  of  the  double  peak, 
and  the  round  top  of  Ben  More,  stood  shadowy  above 
the  plain  against  the  lurid  light.  Over  the  sea  hung 
'  the  ragged  rims  of  thunder '  far  away,  veiling  in  thin 
shadow  the   outermost  isles,  whose  mountain  crests 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    349 

looked  dark  as  indigo.  A  few  hot  heavy  drops  of  rain 
were  falling  as  Merton  began  to  descend.  He  was 
soaked  to  the  skin  when  he  reached  the  door  of  the 
observatory,  and  rushed  up  stairs  to  dress  for  dinner. 
A  covered  way  led  from  the  observatory  to  the  Castle, 
so  that  he  did  not  get  drenched  again  on  his  return, 
which  he  accompHshed  punctually  as  the  gong  for 
dinner  sounded. 

In  the  drawing-room  were  the  Budes,  and  Mr. 
Macrae  was  nervously  pacing  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  room. 

'  They  must  have  taken  refuge  from  the  rain  some- 
where,' Lady  Bude  was  saying,  and  '  they '  were  obvi- 
ously Blake  and  the  daughter  of  the  house.  Where 
were  they  ?  Merton's  heart  sank  with  a  foolish 
foreboding. 

'  I  know,'  the  lady  went  on,  '  that  they  were  only 
going  down  to  the  cove  —  where  you  and  I  were  yes- 
terday evening,  Mr.  Merton.     It  is  no  distance.' 

'  A  mile  and  a  half  is  a  good  deal  in  this  weather, 
said  Merton,  '  and  there  is  no  cottage  on  this  side  of 
the  sea  loch.  But  they  must  have  taken  shelter,'  he 
added;  he  must  not  seem  anxious. 

At  this  moment  came  a  flash  of  lightning,  followed 
by  a  crack  like  that  of  a  cosmic  whip-lash,  and  a  long 
reverberating  roar  of  thunder. 

'  It  is  most  foolish  to  have  stayed  out  so  late,'  said 
Mr.  Macrae.  '  Any  one  could  see  that  a  storm  was 
coming.     I  told  them  so,  I  am  really  annoyed.' 

Every  one  was  silent,  the  rain  fell  straight  and 
steady,  the  gravel  in  front  of  the  window  was  a 
series  of  little  lakes,  pale  and  chill  in  the  wan  twilight. 


350  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  really  think  I  must  send  a  couple  of  men  down 
with  cloaks  and  umbrellas,'  said  the  nervous  father, 
pressing  an  electric  knob. 

The  butler  appeared. 

'  Are  Donald  and  Sandy  and  Murdoch  about  ? ' 
asked  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  Not  returned  from  church,  sir ;  '  said  the  butler. 

'  There  was  likely  to  be  a  row  at  the  Free  Kirk.' 
said  Mr.  Macrae,  absently. 

'  You  must  go  yourself,  Benson,  with  Archibald  and 
James.  Take  cloaks  and  umbrellas,  and  hurry  down 
towards  the  cove.  Mr.  Blake  and  Miss  Macrae  have 
probably  found  shelter  on  the  way  somewhere.' 

The  butler  answered, '  Yes,  sir ;  '  but  he  cannot  have 
been  very  well  pleased  with  his  errand.  Merton 
wanted  to  offer  to  go,  anything  to  be  occupied ;  but 
Bude  said  nothing,  and  so  Merton  did  not  speak. 

The  four  in  the  drawing-room  sat  chatting  nerv- 
ously :  '  There  was  nothing  of  course  to  be  anxious 
about,'  they  told  each  other.  The  bolt  of  heaven 
never  strikes  the  daughters  of  millionaires ;  Miss 
Macrae  was  indifferent  to  a  wetting,  and  nobody  cared 
tremulously  about  Blake.  Indeed  the  words  'con- 
found the  fellow'  were  in  the  minds  of  the  three  men. 

The  evening  darkened  rapidly,  the  minutes  lagged 
by,  the  clock  chimed  the  half-hour,  three-quarters, 
nine  o'clock. 

Mr.  Macrae  was  manifestly  growing  more  and  more 
nervous,  Merton  forgot  to  grow  more  and  more  hungry. 
His  tongue  felt  dry  and  hard  ;  he  was  afraid  of  he  knew 
not  what,  but  he  bravely  tried  to  make  talk  with  Lady 
Bude. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    351 

The  door  opened,  letting  the  blaze  of  electric  light 
from  the  hall  into  the  darkling  room.  They  all 
turned  eagerly  towards  the  door.  It  was  only  one 
of  the  servants.  Merton's  heart  felt  like  lead.  '  Mr. 
Benson  has  returned,  sir;  he  would  be  glad  if  he 
might  speak  to  you  for  a  moment.' 

'  Where  is  he?  '  asked  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  At  the  outer  door,  sir,  in  the  porch.  He  is  very 
wet.' 

Mr.  Macrae  went  out;  the  others  found  Httle  to  say 
to  each  other. 

'  Very  awkward,'  muttered  Bude.  '  They  cannot 
have  been  climbing  the  cliffs,  surely.' 

'  The  bridge  is  far  above  the  highest  water-mark  of 
the  burn,  in  case  they  crossed  the  water,'  said  Merton. 

Lady  Bude  was  silent. 

Mr.  Macrae  returned.  '  Benson  has  come  back,'  he 
said,  '  to  say  that  he  can  find  no  trace  of  them.  The 
other  men  are  still  searching.' 

*  Can  they  have  had  themselves  ferried  across  the 
sea  loch  to  the  village  opposite?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  Emmiline  had  not  the  key  of  our  boat,'  said  Mr. 
Macrae,  '  I  have  made  sure  of  that ;  and  not  a  man 
in  the  village  would  launch  a  boat  on  Sunday.* 

'We  must  go  and  help  to  search  for  them,'  said 
Merton ;  he  only  wished  to  be  doing  something, 
anything. 

'  I  shall  not  be  a  minute  in  changing  my  dress.' 

Bude  also  volunteered,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  having 
drunk  a  glass  of  wine  and  eaten  a  crust  of  bread,  they 
and  Mr.  Macrae  were  hurrying  towards  the  cove.  The 
storm  was  passing ;  by  the  time  when  they  reached 


352 


THE   DISENTANGLERS 


the  sea-side  there  were  rifts  of  clear  light  in  the  sky 
above  them.  They  had  walked  rapidly  and  silently, 
the  swollen  stream  roaring  beneath  them.  It  had 
rained  torrents  in  the  hills.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
said,  but  the  mind  of  each  man  was  busy  with  the 
gloomiest  conjectures.  These  had  to  be  far-fetched, 
for  in  a  country  so  thinly  peopled,  and  so  honest  and 
friendly,  within  a  couple  of  miles  at  most  from  home, 
on  a  Sunday  evening,  what  conceivable  harm  could 
befall  a  man  and  a  maid? 

'Can  we  trust  the  man?'  was  in  Merton's  mind. 
'  If  they  have  been  ferried  across  to  the  village,  they 
would  have  set  out  to  return  before  now,'  he  said 
aloud ;  but  there  was  no  boat  on  the  faint  silver  of  the 
sea  loch.  *  The  cliffs  are  the  Hkeliest  place  for  an  ac- 
cident, if  there  was  an  accident,'  he  considered,  with  a 
pang.  The  cliffs  might  have  tempted  the  light-footed 
girl.  In  fancy  he  saw  her  huddled,  a  ghastly  heap, 
the  faint  wind  fluttering  the  folds  of  her  dress,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  rocks.  She  had  been  wearing  a  long 
skirt,  not  her  wont  in  the  Highlands ;  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  climb  in  that;  she  might  have  forgotten, 
climbed,  and  caught  her  foot,  and  fallen. 

*  Blake  may  have  snatched  at  her,  and  been  dragged 
down  with  her,'  Merton  thought.  All  the  horrid  fan- 
cies of  keen  anxiety  flitted  across  his  mind's  eye.  He 
paused,  and  made  an  effort  over  himself.  There  must 
be  some  other  harmless  explanation,  an  adventure  to 
laugh  at  —  for  Blake  and  the  girl.    Poor  comfort,  that ! 

The  men  who  had  been  searching  were  scattered 
about  the  sides  of  the  cove,  and,  distinguishing  the 
new-comers,  gathered  towards  them. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    353 

'  No,*  they  said,  '  they  had  found  nothing  except  a 
little  book  that  seemed  to  belong  to  Mr.  Blake.' 

It  had  been  discovered  near  the  place  where  Mer- 
ton  and  Lady  Bude  were  sitting  on  the  previous 
evening.  When  found  it  was  lying  open,  face  down- 
wards. In  the  faint  light  Merton  could  see  that  the 
book  was  full  of  manuscript  poems,  the  lines  all 
blotted  and  run  together  by  the  tropical  rain.  He 
thrust  it  into  the  pocket  of  his  ulster. 

Merton  took  the  most  intelligent  of  the  gillies  aside. 
'  Show  me  where  you  have  searched,'  he  said.  The 
man  pointed  to  the  shores  of  the  cove  ;  they  had  also 
examined  the  banks  of  the  burn,  and  under  all  the 
trees,  clearly  fearing  that  the  lost  pair  might  have 
been  lightning-struck,  like  the  nymph  and  swain  in 
Pope's  poem.  'You  have  not  searched  the  cliffs?' 
asked  Merton. 

'  No,  sir,'  said  the  man. 

Merton  then  went  to  Mr.  Macrae,  and  suggested 
that  the  boat  should  be  sent  across  the  sea  ferry,  to 
try  if  anything  could  be  learned  in  the  village.  Mr. 
Macrae  agreed,  and  himself  went  in  the  boat,  which 
was  presently  unmoored,  and  pulled  by  two  gillies 
across  the  loch,  that  ran  like  a  river  with  the  outgoing 
tide. 

Merton  and  Bude  began  to  search  the  cliffs;  Mer- 
ton could  hear  the  hoarse  pumping  of  his  own  heart. 
The  cliff's  base  was  deep  in  flags  and  bracken,  then 
the  rocks  began  climbing  to  the  foot  of  the  perpen- 
dicular basaltic  crag.  The  sky,  fortunately,  was 
now  clear  in  the  west,  and  lent  a  wan  light  to  the 
seekers.     Merton  had  almost  reached  the  base  of  the 

23 


354  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

clilif,  when,  in  the  deep  bracken,  he  stumbled  over 
something  soft.  He  stooped  and  held  back  the  tall 
fronds  of  bracken. 

It  was  the  body  of  a  man ;  the  body  did  not  stir. 
Merton  glanced  to  see  the  face,  but  the  face  was  bent 
round,  leaning  half  on  the  earth.  It  was  Blake. 
Merton's  guess  seemed  true.  They  had  fallen  from 
the  cliffs  !  But  where  was  that  other  body?  Merton 
yelled  to  Bude.     Blake  seemed  dead  or  insensible. 

Merton  (he  was  ashamed  of  it  presently)  left  the 
body  of  Blake  alone ;  he  plunged  wildly  in  and  out 
of  the  bracken,  still  shouting  to  Bude,  and  looking 
for  that  which  he  feared  to  find.  She  could  not  be 
far  off.  He  stumbled  over  rocks,  into  rabbit  holes, 
he  dived  among  the  soaked  bracken.  Below  and 
around  he  hunted,  feverishly  panting,  then  he  set  his 
face  to  the  sheer  cliff,  to  climb ;  she  might  be  lying 
on  some  higher  ledge,  the  shadow  on  the  rocks  was 
dark.     At  this  moment  Bude  hailed  him. 

'  Come  down  !  '  he  cried,  '  she  cannot  be  there  !  ' 

'Why  not?  *  he  gasped,  arriving  at  the  side  of  Bude, 
who  was  stooping,  with  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  over 
the  body  of  Blake,  which  faintly  stirred. 

'  Look  ! '  said  Bude,  lowering  the  lantern. 

Then  Merton  saw  that  Blake's  hands  were  bound 
down  beside  his  body,  and  that  the  cords  were  fastened 
by  pegs  to  the  ground.  His  feet  were  fastened  in 
the  same  way,  and  his  mouth  was  stuffed  full  of  wet 
seaweed.  Bude  pulled  out  the  improvised  gag,  cut 
the  ropes,  turned  the  face  upwards,  and  carefully 
dropped  a  little  whisky  from  his  flask  into  the  mouth. 
Blake  opened  his  eyes. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    355 

'Where  are  my  poems?'  he  asked. 

'Where  is  Miss  Macrae?'  shrieked  Merton  in 
agony. 

'  Damn  the  midges,'  said  Blake  (his  face  was  hardly 
recognisable  from  their  bites).  '  Oh,  damn  them 
all ! '     He  had  fainted  again. 

'  She  has  been  carried  off,'  groaned  Merton.  Bude 
and  he  did  all  that  they  knew  for  poor  Blake.  They 
rubbed  his  ankles  and  wrists,  they  administered  more 
whisky,  and  finally  got  him  to  sit  up.  He  scratched 
his  hands  over  his  face  and  moaned,  but  at  last  he 
recovered  full  consciousness.  No  sense  could  be 
extracted  from  him,  and,  as  the  boat  was  now  visible 
on  its  homeward  track,  Bude  and  Merton  carried  him 
down  to  the  cove,  anxiously  waiting  Mr.  Macrae. 

He  leaped  ashore. 

'  Have  you  heard  anything?'  asked  Bude. 

'They  saw  a  boat  on  the  loch  about  seven  o'clock,' 
said  Mr.  Macrae,  '  coming  from  the  head  of  it,  touch- 
ing here,  and  then  pulling  west,  round  the  cliff.  They 
thought  the  crew  Sabbath-breakers  from  the  lodge  at 
Alt  Garbh.  What's  that,'  he  cried,  at  last  seeing 
Blake,  who  lay  supported  against  a  rock,  his  eyes 
shut. 

Merton  rapidly  explained. 

'  It  is  as  I  thought,'  said  Mr.  Macrae  resolutely. 
'  I  knew  it  from  the  first.  They  have  kidnapped  her 
for  a  ransom.     Let  us  go  home.' 

Merton  and  Bude  were  silent;  they,  too,  had 
guessed,  as  soon  as  they  discovered  Blake.  The  girl 
was  her  father's  very  life,  and  they  admired  his  reso- 
lution, his  silence.     A  gate  was  taken  from  its  hinges, 


356  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

cloaks  were  strewn  on  it,  and  Blake  was  laid  on  this 
ambulance. 

Merton  ventured  to  speak. 

'  May  I  take  your  boat,  sir,  across  to  the  ferry,  and 
send  the  fishermen  from  the  village  to  search  each 
end  of  the  loch  on  their  side?  It  is  after  midnight,' 
he  added  grimly.  *  They  will  not  refuse  to  go ;  it  is 
Monday.' 

'I  will  accompany  them,'  said  Bude,  'with  your 
leave,  Mr,  Macrae.  Merton  can  search  our  side 
of  the  loch,  he  can  borrow  another  boat  at  the  village 
in  addition  to  yours.  You,  at  the  Castle,  can  organise 
the  measures  for  to-morrow.' 

'  Thank  you  both,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  I  should 
have  thought  of  that.  Thank  you,  Mr.  Merton,  for 
the  idea.  I  am  a  little  dazed.  There  is  the  key 
of  the  boat.' 

Merton  snatched  it,  and  ran,  followed  by  Bude  and 
four  gillies,  to  the  little  pier  where  the  boat  was 
moored.  He  must  be  doing  something  for  her,  or  go 
mad.  The  six  men  crowded  into  the  boat,  and  pulled 
swiftly  away,  Merton  taking  the  stroke  oar.  Mean- 
while Blake  was  carried  by  four  gillies  towards  the 
Castle,  the  men  talking  low  to  each  other  in  Gaelic. 
Mr.  Macrae  walked  silently  in  front. 

Such  was  the  mournful  procession  that  Lady  Bude 
ran  out  to  meet.  She  passed  Mr.  Macrae,  whose  face 
was  set  with  an  expression  of  deadly  rage,  and  looked 
for  Bude.  He  was  not  there,  a  gillie  told  her  what 
they  knew,  and,  with  a  convulsive  sob,  she  followed 
Mr.  Macrae  into  the  Castle. 

'  Mr.  Blake  must  be  taken  to  his  room,'  said   Mr. 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    357 

Macrae.  '  Benson,  bring  something  to  eat  and  drink. 
Lady  Bude,  I  deeply  regret  that  this  thing  should  have 
troubled  your  stay  with  me.  She  has  been  carried 
off,  Mr.  Blake  has  been  rendered  unconscious ;  your 
husband  and  Mr.  Merton  are  trying  nobly  to  find  the 
track  of  the  miscreants.  You  will  excuse  me,  I  must 
see  to  Mr.  Blake.' 

Mr.  Macrae  rose,  bowed,  and  went  out.  He  saw 
Blake  carried  to  a  bathroom  in  the  observatory ;  they 
undressed  him  and  put  him  in  the  hot  water.  Then 
they  put  him  to  bed,  and  brought  him  wine  and  food. 
He  drank  the  wine  eagerly. 

'  We  were  set  on  suddenly  from  behind  by  fellows 
from  a  boat,'  he  said.  '  We  saw  them  land  and  go  up 
from  the  cove ;  they  took  us  in  the  rear :  they  felled 
me  and  pegged  me  out.     Have  you  my  poems? ' 

'  Mr.  Merton  has  the  poems,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 
'  What  became  of  my  daughter?  ' 

'  I  don't  know,  I  was  unconscious.' 

'What  kind  of  boat  was  it?  ' 

*  An  ordinary  coble,  a  country  boat.' 

'What  kind  of  looking  men  were  they?' 

'  Rough  fellows  with  beards.  I  only  saw  them 
when  they  first  passed  us  at  some  distance.  Oh,  my 
head  !  Oh  damn,  how  these  bites  do  sting  !  Get  me 
some  ammonia;  you'll  find  it  in  a  bottle  on  the 
dressing-table.' 

Mr.  Macrae  brought  him  the  bottle  and  a  handker- 
chief    '  That  is  all  you  know?  '  he  asked. 

But  Blake  was  babbling  some  confusion  of  verse 
and  prose :   his  wits  were  wandering. 

Mr.  Macrae  turned  from  him,  and  bade  one  of  the 


358  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

men  watch  him.  He  himself  passed  downstairs  and 
into  the  hall,  where  Lady  Bude  was  standing  at  the 
window,  gazing  to  the  north. 

'  Indeed  you  must  not  watch,  Lady  Bude,'  said  the 
millionaire.  '  Let  me  persuade  you  to  take  some- 
thing and  go  to  bed.  I  forget  myself;  I  do  not  believe 
that  you  have  dined.'  He  himself  sat  down  at  the 
table,  he  ate  and  drank,  and  induced  Lady  Bude  to 
join  him.  '  Now,  do  let  me  persuade  you  to  go  back 
and  to  try  to  sleep,'  said  Mr.  Macrae  gently.  '  Your 
husband  is  well  accompanied.' 

'  It  is  not  for  him  that  I  am  afraid,'  said  the  lady, 
who  was  in  tears. 

'  I  must  arrange  for  the  day's  work,'  said  the 
millionaire,  and  Lady  Bude  sighed  and  left  him. 

'  First,'  he  said  aloud,  '  we  must  get  the  doctor  from 
Lairg  to  see  Blake.  Over  forty  miles.'  He  rang. 
'  Benson,'  he  said  to  the  butler,  '  order  the  tandem 
for  seven.  The  yacht  to  have  steam  up  at  the  same 
hour.     Breakfast  at  half-past  six.' 

The  millionaire  then  went  to  his  own  study,  where 
he  sat  lost  in  thought.  Morning  had  come  before 
the  sound  of  voices  below  informed  him  that  Bude 
and  Merton  had  returned.  He  hurried  down;  their 
faces  told  him  all.     '  Nothing?'  he  asked  calmly. 

Nothing !  They  had  rowed  along  the  loch  sides, 
touching  at  every  cottage  and  landing-place.  They 
had  learned  nothing.  He  explained  his  ideas  for 
the  day. 

'  If  you  will  allow  me  to  go  in  the  yacht,  I  can 
telegraph  from  Lochinver  in  all  directions  to  the 
police,'  said  Bude. 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    359 

*  We  can  use  the  wireless  thing,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 
'  But  if  you  would  be  so  good,  you  could  at  least  see 
the  local  police,  and  if  anything  occurred  to  you, 
telegraph  in  the  ordinary  way.' 

'  Right,'  said  Bude,  '  I  shall  now  take  a  bath.' 

'  You  will  stay  with  me,  Mr.  Merton,'  said  Mr. 
Macrae. 

'It  is  a  dreadful  country  for  men  in  our  position,' 
said  Merton,  for  the  sake  of  saying  something. 
'  Police  and  everything  so  remote.' 

'  It  gave  them  their  chance ;  they  have  waited  for  it 
long  enough,  I  dare  say.     Have  you  any  ideas?' 

'  They  must  have  a  steamer  somewhere.' 

'  That  is  why  I  have  ordered  the  balloon,  to  re- 
connoitre the  sea  from,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  But  they 
have  had  all  the  night  to  escape  in.  I  think  they 
will  take  her  to  America,  to  some  rascally  southern 
republic,  probably.' 

'  I  have  thought  of  the  outer  islands,'  said  Merton, 
'  out  behind  the  Lewis  and  the  Long  Island.' 

'  We  shall  have  them  searched,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 
'  I  can  think  of  no  more  at  present,  and  you  are 
tired.' 

Merton  had  slept  ill  and  strangely  on  the  night  of 
Saturday ;  on  Sunday  night,  of  course,  he  had  never 
lain  down.  Unshaven,  dirty,  with  haggard  eyes,  he 
looked  as  wretched  as  he  felt. 

'  I  shall  have  a  bath,  and  then  please  employ  me, 
it  does  not  matter  on  what,  as  long  as  I  am  at  work 
for  —  you,'  said  Merton.  He  had  nearly  said  '  for 
her.' 

Mr.  Macrae  looked  at  him  rather  curiously.     *  You 


36o  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

are  dying  of  fatigue,'  he  said.  '  All  your  ideas  have 
been  excellent,  but  I  cannot  let  you  kill  yourself 
Ideas  are  what  I  want  You  must  stay  with  me  to- 
day: I  shall  be  communicating  with  London  and 
other  centres  by  the  Giambresi  machine ;  I  shall  need 
your  advice,  your  suggestions.  Now,  do  go  to  bed  : 
you  shall  be  called  if  you  are  needed.' 

He  wrung  Merton's  hand,  and  Merton  crept  up  to 
his  bedroom.  He  took  a  bath,  turned  in,  and  was 
wrapped  in  all  the  blessedness  of  sleep. 

Before  five  o'clock  the  house  was  astir.  Bude,  in 
the  yacht,  steamed  down  the  coast,  touching  at 
Lochinver,  and  wherever  there  seemed  a  faint  hope 
of  finding  intelligence.  But  he  learned  nothing. 
Yachts  and  other  vessels  came  and  went  (on  Sundays, 
of  course,  more  seldom),  and  if  the  heiress  had  been 
taken  straight  to  sea,  northwards  or  west,  round  the 
Butt  of  Lewis,  by  night,  there  could  be  no  chance  of 
news  of  her.  Returning,  Bude  learned  that  the  local 
search  parties  had  found  nothing  but  the  black  ashes 
of  a  burned  boat  in  a  creek  on  the  south  side  of  the 
cliffs.  There  the  captors  of  Miss  Macrae  must  have 
touched,  burned  their  coble,  and  taken  to  some 
larger  and  fleeter  vessel.  But  no  such  vessel  had 
been  seen  by  shepherd,  fisher,  keeper,  or  gillie.  The 
grooms  arrived  from  Lairg,  in  the  tandem,  with  the 
doctor  and  a  rural  policeman.  Bude  had  telegraphed 
to  Scotland  Yard  from  Lochinver  for  detectives,  and 
to  Glasgow,  Oban,  Tobermory,  Salen,  in  fact  to  every 
place  he  thought  likely,  with  minute  particulars  of 
Miss  Macrae's  appearance  and  dress.  All  this 
Merton  learned  from  Bude,  when,  long  after  luncheon 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    361 

time,  our  hero  awoke  suddenly,  refreshed  in  body, 
but  with  the  ghastly  blank  of  misery  and  doubt  before 
the  eyes  of  his  mind. 

*  I  wired,'  said  Bude,  '  on  the  off  chance  that 
yesterday's  storm  might  have  deranged  the  wireless 
machine,  and,  by  Jove,  it  is  lucky  I  did.  The  wire- 
less machine  won't  work,  not  a  word  of  message  has 
come  through ;  it  is  jammed  or  something.  I  met 
Donald  Macdonald,  who  told  me.' 

*  Have  you  seen  our  host  yet?  ' 

'  No,'  said  Bude,  '  I  was  just  going  to  him.' 

They  found  the  millionaire  seated  at  a  table,  his 
head  in  his  hands.  On  their  approach  he  roused 
himself. 

'  Any  news?  '  he  asked  Bude,  who  shook  his  head. 
He  explained  how  he  had  himself  sent  various 
telegrams,  and  Mr.  Macrae  thanked  him. 

'  You  did  well,'  he  said.  '  Some  electric  disturbance 
has  cut  us  off  from  our  London  correspondent.  We 
sent  messages  in  the  usual  way,  but  there  has  been 
no  reply.  You  sent  to  Scotland  Yard  for  detectives, 
I  think  you  said?' 

'  I  did.' 

'  But,  unluckily,  what  can  London  detectives  do  in 
a  country  like  this?  '  said  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  I  told  them  to  send  one  who  had  the  Gaelic,'  said 
Bude. 

'  It  was  well  thought  of,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  '  but 
this  was  no  local  job.  Every  man  for  miles  round  has 
been  examined,  and  accounted  for.' 

*I  hope  you  have  slept  well,  Mr.  Merton?'  he 
asked. 


362  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Excellently.  Can  you  not  put  me  on  some  work 
if  it  is  only  to  copy  telegraphic  despatches?  But, 
by  the  way,  how  is  Blake?' 

'  The  doctor  is  still  with  him,'  said  Mr.  Macrae ;  '  a 
case  of  concussion  of  the  brain,  he  says  it  is.  But 
you  go  out  and  take  the  air,  you  must  be  careful  of 
yourself 

Bude  remained  with  the  millionaire,  Merton  saun- 
tered out  to  look  at  the  river :  running  water  drew 
him  like  a  magnet.  By  the  side  of  the  stream,  on  a 
woodland  path,  he  met  Lady  Bude.  She  took  his 
hand  silently  in  her  right,  and  patted  it  with  her  left. 
Merton  turned  his  head  away. 

*  What  can  I  say  to  you?  '  she  asked.  '  Oh,  this  is 
too  horrible,  too  cruel.' 

'  If  I  had  listened  to  you  and  not  irritated  her  I 
might  have  been  with  her,  not  Blake,'  said  Merton, 
with  keen  self-respect. 

'  I  don't  quite  see  that  you  would  be  any  the  better 
for  concussion  of  the  brain,'  said  Lady  Bude,  smiling. 
'  Oh,  Mr.  Merton,  you  must  find  her,  I  know  how 
you  have  worked  already.  You  must  rescue  her. 
Consider,  this  is  your  chance,  this  is  your  opportunity 
to  do  something  great.     Take  courage !  ' 

Merton  answered,  with  a  rather  watery  smile,  '  If  I 
had  Logan  with  me.' 

'  With  or  without  Lord  Fastcastle,  you  must  do  it ! ' 
said  Lady  Bude. 

They  saw  Mr.  Macrae  approaching  them  deep  in 
thought  and  advanced  to  meet  him. 

'  Mr.  Macrae,'  asked  Lady  Bude  suddenly,  '  have 
you  had  Donald  with  you  long  ? ' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    363 

'  Ever  since  he  was  a  lad  in  Canada,'  answered  the 
millionaire.  '  I  have  every  confidence  in  Donald's 
ability,  and  he  was  for  half  a  year  with  Gianesi  and 
Giambresi,  learning  to  work  their  system.' 

Donald's  honesty,  it  was  clear,  he  never  dreamed 
of  suspecting.  Merton  blushed,  as  he  remembered 
that  a  doubt  as  to  whether  the  engineer  had  been 
'  got  at '  had  occurred  to  his  own  mind.  For  a 
heavy  bribe  (Merton  had  fancied)  Donald  might  have 
been  induced,  perhaps  by  some  Stock  Exchange 
operator,  to  tamper  with  the  wireless  centre  of 
communication.  But,  from  Mr.  Macrae's  perfect 
confidence,  he  felt  obliged  to  drop  this  attractive 
hypothesis. 

They  dined  at  the  usual  hour,  and  not  long  after 
dinner  Lady  Bude  said  good-night,  while  her  lord, 
who  was  very  tired,  soon  followed  her  example. 
Merton  and  the  millionaire  paid  a  visit  to  Blake, 
whom  they  found  asleep,  and  the  doctor,  hav^ing 
taken  supper  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  stay  all 
night,  joined  the  two  other  men  in  the  smoking- 
room.  In  answer  to  inquiries  about  the  patient,  Dr. 
MacTavish  said,  'It's  jist  concussion,  slight  con- 
cussion, and  nervous  shoke.  No  that  muckle 
the  maiter  wi'  him  but  a  clour  on  the  hairnspan, 
and  midge  bites,  forbye  the  disagreeableness  o' 
being  clamped  doon  for  a  wheen  hours  in  a  wat 
tussock  o'  bracken.' 

This  diagnosis,  though  not  perfectly  intelligible  to 
Merton,  seemed  to  reassure' Mr.  Macrae. 

'  He  's  a  bit  concetty,  the  chiel,'  added  the  worthy 
physician,  '  and  it  may  be  a  day  or  twa  or  he  judges 


364  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

he  can  leave  his   bed.     Jist  nervous  collapse.     But, 
bless  my  soul,  what's  thon?' 

'  Thon '  had  brought  Mr.  Macrae  to  his  feet  with  a 
bound.  It  was  the  thrill  of  the  electric  bell  which 
preluded  to  communications  from  the  wireless  com- 
municator !  The  instrument  began  to  tick,  and  to 
emit  its  inscribed  tape. 

'  Thank  heaven,'  cried  the  miUionaire,  *  now  we 
shall  have  light  on  this  mystery.'  He  read  the  mes- 
sage, stamped  his  foot  with  an  awful  execration,  and 
then,  recovering  himself,  handed  the  document  to 
Merton.  *  The  message  is  a  disgusting  practical  joke,' 
he  said.  '  Some  one  at  the  central  agency  is  playing 
tricks  with  the  instrument' 

'Am  I  to  read  the  message  aloud?'  asked  Merton. 

It  was  rather  a  difficult  question,  for  the  doctor 
was  a  perfect  stranger  to  all  present,  and  the  matters 
involved  were  of  an  intimate  delicacy,  affecting  the 
most  sacred  domestic  relations. 

*  Dr.  MacTavish,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  '  speaking  as 
Highlander  to  Highlander,  these  are  circumstances, 
are  they  not,  under  the  seal  of  professional  confi- 
dence? ' 

The  big  doctor  rose  to  his  feet. 

'They  are,  sir,  but,  Mr.  Macrae,  I  am  a  married 
man.  This  sad  business  of  yours,  I  say  it  with 
sorrow,  will  be  the  talk  of  the  world  to-morrow,  as  it 
is  of  the  country  side  to-day.  If  you  will  excuse  me, 
I  would  rather  know  nothing,  and  be  able  to  tell 
nothing,  so  I  '11  take  my  pipe  outside  with  me.' 

'  Not  alone,  don't  go  alone,  Dr.  MacTavish,'  said 
Merton ;   '  Mr.  Macrae  will  need  his   telegraphic  op- 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    365 

erator  probably.  Let  me  play  you  a  hundred  up  at 
billiards.' 

The  doctor  liked  nothing  better;  soon  the  balls 
were  rattling,  while  the  millionaire  was  closeted  alone 
with  Donald  Macdonald  and  the  wireless  thing. 

After  one  game,  of  which  he  was  the  winner,  the 
doctor,  with  much  delicacy,  asked  leave  to  go  to  bed. 
Merton  conducted  him  to  his  room,  and,  returning, 
was  hailed  by  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  Here  is  the  pleasant  result  of  our  communications,' 
he  said,  reading  aloud  the  message  which  he  had  first 
received. 

'  The  Seven  Hunters.  August  g,  7.47  P.M. 
'  Do  not  be  anxious  about  Miss  Macrae.  She  is  in  per- 
fect health,  and  accompanied  by  three  chaperons  accus- 
tomed to  move  in  the  first  circles.  The  one  question  is 
How  Much?  Sorry  to  be  abrupt,  but  the  sooner  the  affair 
is  satisfactorily  concluded  the  better.  A  reply  through 
your  Gianesi  machine  will  reach  us,  and  will  meet  with 
prompt  attention.' 

'  A  practical  joke,'  said  Merton.  '  The  melancholy 
news  has  reached  town  through  Bude's  telegrams, 
and  somebody  at  the  dep6t  is  playing  tricks  with  the 
instrument.' 

'  I  have  used  the  instrument  to  communicate  that 
opinion  to  the  manufacturers,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  '  but 
I  have  had  no  reply.' 

'  What  does  the  jester  mean  by  heading  his  com- 
munication "The  Seven  Hunters"?'  asked  Merton. 

'  The  name  of  a  real  or  imaginary  public-house,  I 
suppose,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 


366  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

At  this  moment  the  electric  bell  gave  its  signal, 
and  the  tape  began  to  exude.  Mr.  Macrae  read  the 
message  aloud  ;  it  ran  thus  : 

'  No  good  wiring  to  Gianesi  and  Giambresi  at  head- 
quarters. You  are  hitched  on  to  us,  and  to  nobody- 
else.     Better  climb  down.     What  are  your  terms  ? ' 

'  This  is  infuriating,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  It  7nust  be 
a  practical  joke,  but  how  to  reach  the  operators?' 

'  Let  me  wire  to-morrow  by  the  old-fashioned  way,' 
said  Merton ;  '  I  hear  that  one  need  not  go  to  Lairg 
to  wire.  One  can  do  that  from  Inchnadampf,  much 
nearer.  That  is  quicker  than  steaming  to  Loch 
Inver.' 

'  Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Merton ;  I  must  be 
here  myself.  You  had  better  take  the  motor  — 
trouble  dazes  a  man  —  I  forgot  the  motor  when  I 
ordered  the  tandem   this  morning.' 

'  Very  good,'  said  Merton.  *  At  what  hour  shall  I 
start?' 

'  We  all  need  rest ;  let  us  say  at  ten  o'clock.' 

'  All  right,'  replied  Merton,  '  Now  do,  pray,  try  to 
get  a  good  night  of  sleep.' 

Mr.  Macrae  smiled  wanly :  '  I  mean  to  force  my- 
self to  read  Emma,  by  Miss  Austen,  till  the  desired 
effect  is  produced.' 

Merton  went  to  bed,  marvelling  at  the  self-com- 
mand of  the  millionaire.  He  himself  slept  ill,  ab- 
sorbed in  regret  and  darkling  conjecture. 

After  writing  out  several  telegrams  for  Merton  to 
carry,  the  smitten  victim  of  enormous  opulence  sought 
repose.  But  how  vainly !  Between  him  and  the 
pages  which  report  the  prosings  of  Miss  Bates  and 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    367 

Mr.  VVoodhouse  intruded  visions  of  his  daughter,  a 
captive,  perhaps  crossing  the  Atlantic,  perhaps  hid- 
den, who  knew,  in  a  shieHng  or  a  cavern  in  the  un- 
trodden wastes  of  Assynt  or  of  Lord  Reay's  country. 
At  last  these  appearances  were  merged  in  sleep. 


///.    Logan  to  the  Rescue  ! 

As  Merton  sped  on  the  motor  next  day  to  the 
nearest  telegraph  station,  with  Mr.  Macrae's  sheaf  of 
despatches,  Dr.  MacTavish  found  him  a  very  dull 
companion.  He  named  the  lochs  and  hills,  Quinag, 
Suilvean,  Ben  Mor,  he  dwelt  on  the  merits  of  the 
trout  in  the  lochs;  he  showed  the  melancholy  im- 
provements of  the  old  Duke ;  he  spoke  of  duchesses 
and  of  crofters,  of  anglers  and  tourists;  he  pointed  to 
the  ruined  castle  of  the  man  who  sold  the  great  Mont- 
rose—  or  did  not  sell  him.  Merton  was  irresponsive, 
trying  to  think.  What  was  this  mystery?  Why  did 
the  wireless  machine  bring  no  response  from  its  head- 
quarters ;  or  how  could  practical  jokers  have  intruded 
into  the  secret  chambers  of  Messrs.  Gianesi  and 
Giambresi?  These  dreams  or  visions  of  his  own  on 
the  night  before  Miss  Macrae  was  taken — were  they 
wholly  due  to  tobacco  and  the  liver? 

'  I  thought  I  was  awake,'  said  Merton  to  himself, 
'  when  I  was  only  dreaming  about  the  crimson  blot 
on  the  ceiling.  Was  I  asleep  when  I  saw  the  tartans 
go  down  the  stairs?  I  used  to  walk  in  my  sleep  as  a 
boy.     It  is  very  queer  ! ' 

'  Frae  the  top  o'  Ben  M6r,'  the  doctor  was  saying. 


368  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  on  a  fine  day,  they  tell  me,  with  a  glass  you  can 
pick  up  "The  Seven  Hunters."  ' 

'Eh,  what?  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  am  so  confused 
by  this  wretched  affair.  What  did  you  say  you  can 
pick  up?  ' 

'  Just  "  The  Seven  Hunters," '  said  the  doctor 
rather  sulkily. 

'  And  what  are  "  The  Seven  Hunters  "  ?  ' 

'  Just  seven  wee  sma'  islandies  ahint  the  Butt  of 
Lewis.     The  maps  ca'  them  the  Flanan  Islands.' 

Merton's  heart  gave  a  thump.  The  first  message 
from  the  Gianesi  invention  was  dated  '  The  Seven 
Hunters.'     Here  was  a  clue. 

'  Are  the  islands  inhabited?  '  asked  Merton. 

'  Just  wi'  wild  goats,  and,  maybe,  fishers  drying 
their  fish.  And  three  men  in  a  lighthouse  on  one  of 
them,'  said  the  doctor. 

They  now  rushed  up  to  the  hotel  and  telegraph 
office  of  Inchnadampf.  The  doctor,  after  visiting  the 
bar,  went  on  in  the  motor  to  Lairg ;  it  was  to  return 
for  Merton,  who  had  business  enough  on  hand  in 
sending  the  despatches.  He  was  thinking  over  '  The 
Seven  Hunters.'  It  might  be,  probably  was,  a  bhnd, 
or  the  kidnappers,  having  touched  there,  might  have 
departed  in  any  direction  —  to  Iceland,  for  what  he 
knew.  But  the  name,  '  the  Seven  Hunters,'  was  not 
likely  to  have  been  invented  by  a  practical  joker  in 
London.  If  not,  the  conspirators  had  really  captured 
and  kept  to  themselves  Mr.  Macrae's  line  of  wireless 
commtmications.  How  could  that  have  been  done? 
Merton  bitterly  regretted  that  his  general  information 
did  not  include  electrical  science. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    369 

However,  he  had  first  to  send  the  despatches.  In 
one  Mr.  Macrae  informed  Gianesi  and  Giambresi  of 
the  condition  of  their  instrument,  and  bade  them  send 
another  at  once  with  a  skilled  operator,  and  to  look 
out  for  probable  tamperers  in  their  own  establish- 
ment. This  despatch  was  in  a  cypher  which  before 
he  got  the  new  invention,  and  while  he  used  the  old 
wires,  Mr.  Macrae  had  arranged  with  the  electricians. 
The  words  of  the  despatch  were,  therefore,  peculiar, 
and  the  Highland  lass  who  operated,  a  girl  of  great 
beauty  and  modesty,  at  first  declined  to  transmit  the 
message. 

'  It's  maybe  no  proper,  for  a'  that  I  ken,'  she  urged, 
and  only  by  invoking  a  local  person  of  authority,  and 
using  the  name  of  Mr.  Macrae  very  freely,  could  Mer- 
ton  obtain  the  transmission  of  the  despatch. 

In  another  document  Mr.  Macrae  ordered  '  more 
motors '  and  a  dozen  bicycles,  as  the  Nabob  of  old 
ordered  '  more  curricles.'  He  also  telegraphed  to 
the  Home  Office,  the  Admiralty,  the  Hereditary 
Lord  High  Admiral  of  the  West  Coast,  to  Messrs. 
McBrain,  of  the  steamers,  and  to  every  one  who 
might  have  any  access  to  the  control  of  marine 
police  or  information.  He  wired  to  the  police  at 
New  York,  bidding  them  warn  all  American  sta- 
tions, and  to  the  leading  New  York  newspapers, 
knowing  the  energy  and  inquiring,  if  imaginative, 
character  of  their  reporters.  Bude  ought  to  have 
done  all  this  on  the  previous  day,  but  Bude's  ideas 
were  limited.  Nothing,  however,  was  lost,  as  Amer- 
ica is  not  reached  in  forty-eight  hours.  The  million- 
aire   instructed    Scotland    Yard    to  warn  all   foreign 

24 


370  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

ports,  and  left  them  carte-blanche  as  to  the  offer  of  a 
reward  for  the  discovery  of  his  missing  daughter. 
He  also  put  off  all  the  guests  Whom  he  had  been  ex- 
pecting at  Castle  Skrae. 

Merton  was  amazed  at  the  energy  and  intelligence 
of  a  paternal  mind  smitten  by  sudden  grief.  Mr. 
Macrae  had  even  telegraphed  to  every  London 
newspaper,  and  to  the  leading  Scottish  and  provincial 
journals,  *  No  Interviewers  need  Apply.'  Several  hours 
were  spent,  as  may  be  imagined,  in  getting  off  these 
despatches  from  a  Highland  rural  office,  and  Merton 
tried  to  reward  the  fair  operator.  But  she  declined  to 
accept  a  present  for  doing  her  duty,  and  expressed 
lively  sympathy  for  the  poor  young  lady  who  was 
lost.  In  a  few  days  a  diamond-studded  watch  and 
chain  arrived  for  Miss  MacTurk. 

Merton  himself  wired  to  Logan,  imploring  him,  in 
the  name  of  friendship,  to  abandon  all  engagements, 
and  come  to  Inchnadampf.  Where  kidnapping  was 
concerned  he  knew  that  Logan  must  be  interested, 
and  might  be  useful ;  but,  of  course,  he  could  not 
invite  him  to  Castle  Skrae.  Meanwhile  he  secured 
rooms  for  Logan  at  the  excellent  inn.  Lady  Fast- 
castle,  he  knew,  was  in  England,  brooding  over  her 
first-born,  the  Master  of  Fastcastle. 

Before  these  duties  were  performed  the  motor  re- 
turned from  Lairg,  bearing  the  two  London  detec- 
tives, one  disguised  as  a  gillie  (he  was  the  detective 
who  had  the  Gaelic),  the  other  as  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church  of  England.  To  Merton  he  whispered  that 
he  was  to  be  an  early  friend  of  Mr.  Macrae,  come  to 
comfort  him  on  the  first  news  of  his  disaster.     As  to 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    371 

the  other,  the  gillie,  Mr.  Macrae  was  known  to  have 
been  in  want  of  an  assistant  to  the  stalker,  and 
Duncan  Mackay  (of  Scotland  Yard)  had  accepted  the 
situation.  Merton  approved  of  these  arrangements ; 
they  were  such  as  he  would  himself  have  suggested. 

'  But  I  don't  see  what  we  can  do,  sir,'  said  the  cleri- 
cal detective  (the  Rev.  Mr.  Williams),  'except  per- 
haps find  out  if  it  was  a  put  up  thing  from  within.' 

Merton  gave  him  a  succinct  sketch  of  the  events, 
and  he  could  see  that  Mr.  Williams  already  suspected 
Donald  Macdonald,  the  engineer.  Merton,  Mr.  Wil- 
Hams,  and  the  driver  now  got  into  the  motor,  and 
were  followed  by  the  gillie-detective  and  a  man  to 
drive  in  a  dogcart  hired  from  the  inn.  Merton  or- 
dered all  answers  to  telegrams  to  be  sent  by  boys  on 
bicycles. 

It  was  late  ere  he  returned  to  Castle  Skrae.  There 
nothing  of  importance  had  occurred,  except  the 
arrival  of  more  messages  from  the  wireless  machine. 
They  insisted  that  Miss  Macrae  was  in  perfect  health, 
but  implored  the  millionaire  to  settle  instantly,  lest 
anxiety  for  a  father's  grief  should  undermine  her 
constitution. 

Mr.  Williams  had  a  long  interview  with  Mr.  Macrae. 
It  was  arranged  that  he  should  read  family  prayers  in 
the  morning  and  evening.  He  left  The  Church 
Quarterly  Review  and  numbers  of  The  Expositor,  The 
Guardian,  and  TJie  Pilot  in  the  hall  with  his  great 
coat,  and  on  the  whole  his  entry  was  very  well 
staged.  Duncan  Mackay  occupied  a  room  at  the 
keeper's,  who  had  only  eight  children. 

Mr.  Williams  asked  if  he  might  see  Mr.  Blake ;  he 


372  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

could  impart  religious  consolation.  Merton  carried 
this  message,  in  answer  to  which  Blake,  who  was  in 
bed  very  sulky  and  sleepy,  merely  replied,  *  Kick  out 
the  hell-hound.' 

Merton  was  obliged  to  soften  this  rude  message, 
saying  that  unfortunately  Mr.  Blake  was  of  the  older 
faith,  though  he  had  expressed  no  wish  for  the  minis- 
trations of  Father  McColl. 

On  hearing  this  Mr.  Williams  merely  sighed,  as  the 
Budes  were  present.  He  had  been  informed  as  to 
their  tenets,  and  had  even  expressed  a  desire  to 
labour  for  their  enlightenment,  by  way  of  giving 
local  colour.  He  had,  he  said,  some  stirring  Protes- 
tant tracts  among  his  clerical  properties.  Mr.  Macrae, 
however,  had  gently  curbed  this  zeal,  so  on  hearing 
of  Blake's  religious  beliefs  the  sigh  of  Mr.  Williams 
was  delicately  subdued. 

Dinner-time  arrived.  Blake  did  not  appear;  the 
butler  said  that  he  supported  existence  solely  on 
dried  toast  and  milk  and  soda-water.  He  was  one  of 
the  people  who  keep  a  private  clinical  thermometer, 
and  he  sent  the  bulletin  that  his  temperature  was 
103.  He  hoped  to  come  downstairs  to-morrow.  Mr. 
Williams  gave  the  party  some  news  of  the  outer  world. 
He  had  brought  the  Scotsman,  and  Mr.  Macrae  had 
the  gloomy  satisfaction  of  reading  a  wildly  inaccurate 
report  of  his  misfortune.  Correct  news  had  not 
reached  the  press,  but  deep  sympathy  was  expressed. 
The  melancholy  party  soon  broke  up,  Mr.  Williams 
conducting  family  prayers  with  much  unction,  after 
the  Budes  had  withdrawn. 

In  a  private  interview  with  the  millionaire  Merton 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS   373 

told  him  how  he  had  discovered  the  real  meaning  of 
'  The  Seven  Hunters,'  whence  the  first  telegram  of 
the  kidnappers  was  dated.  Neither  man  thought  the 
circumstance  very  important. 

'  They  would  hardly  have  ventured  to  name  the 
islands  if  they  had  any  idea  of  staying  there,'  the 
millionaire  said,  '  besides  any  heartless  jester  could 
find  the  name  on  a  map.' 

This  was  obvious,  but  as  Lady  Bude  was  much  to 
be  pitied,  alone,  in  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Macrae 
determined  to  send  her  and  Bude  on  the  yacht,  the 
Flora  Macdonald,  to  cruise  round  the  Butt  of  Lewis 
and  examine  the  islets.  Both  Bude  and  his  wife  were 
devoted  to  yachting,  and  the  isles  might  yield  some- 
thing in  the  way  of  natural  history. 

Next  day  (Wednesday)  the  Budes  steamed  away, 
and  there  came  many  answers  to  the  telegrams  of  Mr. 
Macrae,  and  one  from  Logan  to  Merton.  Logan 
was  hard  by,  cruising  with  his  cousin.  Admiral  Chirn- 
side,  at  the  naval  manoeuvres  on  the  northeast  coast. 
He  would  come  to  Inchnadampf  at  once.  Mr.  Macrae 
heard  from  Gianesi  and  Giambresi.  Gianesi  himself 
was  coming  with  a  fresh  machine.  Mr.  Macrae 
wished  it  had  been  Giambresi,  whom  he  knew; 
Gianesi  he  had  never  met.  Condolences,  of  course, 
poured  in  from  all  quarters,  even  the  most  exalted. 
The  Emperor  of  Germany  was  most  sympathetic. 
But  there  was  no  news  of  importance.  Several  yacht- 
ing parties  had  been  suspected  and  examined ;  three 
young  ladies  at  Oban,  Applecross,  and  Tobermory, 
had  established  their  identity  and  proved  that  they 
were  not  Miss  Macrae. 


374  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

All  day  the  wireless  machine  was  silent.  Mr, 
Williams  was  shown  all  the  rooms  in  the  castle,  and 
met  Blake,  who  appeared  at  luncheon.  Blake  was 
most  civil.  He  asked  for  a  private  interview  with  Mr. 
Macrae,  who  inquired  whether  his  school  friend,  Mr. 
Williams,  might  share  it?  Blake  was  pleased  to  give 
them  both  all  the  information  he  had,  though  his 
head,  he  admitted,  still  rang  with  the  cowardly  blow 
that  had  stunned  him.  He  was  told  of  the  discovery 
of  the  burned  boat,  and  was  asked  whether  it  had 
approached  from  east  or  west,  from  the  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  or  from  the  head  of  the  sea  loch. 

'  From  Kinlocharty,'  he  said,  '  from  the  head  of  the 
loch,  the  landward  side.'  This  agreed  with  the  evi- 
dence of  the  villagers  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea 
loch. 

Would  he  recognise  the  crew?  He  had  only  seen 
them  at  a  certain  distance,  when  they  landed,  but  in 
spite  of  the  blow  on  his  head  he  remembered  the 
black  beard  of  one  man,  and  the  red  beard  of  another. 
To  be  sure  they  might  shave  off  their  beards,  yet 
these  two  he  thought  he  could  identify.  Speaking 
to  Miss  Macrae  as  the  men  passed  them,  he  had 
called  one  Donald  Dubh,  or  '  black,'  and  the  other 
Donald  Ban,  or  '  fair.'  They  carried  heavy  shep- 
herds' crooks  in  their  hands.  Their  dress  was  Low- 
land, but  they  wore  unusually  broad  bonnets  of  the 
old  sort,  drooping  over  the  eyes.  Blake  knew  no 
more,  except  his  anguish  from  the  midges. 

He  expressed  his  hope  to  be  well  enough  to  go 
away  on  Friday;  he  would  retire  to  the  inn  at 
Scourie,  and  try  to  persevere  with  his  literary  work. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    375 

Mr.  Macrae  would  not  hear  of  this ;  as,  if  the  mis- 
creants were  captured,  Blake  alone  could  have  a 
chance  of  identifying  them.  To  this  Blake  replied 
that,  as  long  as  Mr.  Macrae  thought  that  he  might  be 
useful,  he  was  at  his  service. 

To  Merton,  Blake  displayed  himself  in  a  new  light. 
He  said  that  he  remembered  little  of  what  occurred 
after  he  was  found  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  Probably 
he  was  snappish  and  selfish ;  he  was  suffering  very 
much.  His  head,  indeed,  was  still  bound  up,  and  his 
face  showed  how  he  had  suffered.  Merton  shook 
hands  with  him,  and  said  that  he  hoped  Blake  would 
forget  his  own  behaviour,  for  which  he  was  sincerely 
sorry. 

'  Oh,  the  chaff?  '  said  Blake.  '  Never  mind,  I  dare 
say  I  played  the  fool.  I  have  been  thinking,  when 
my  brain  would  give  me  leave,  as  I  lay  in  bed.  Mer- 
ton, you  are  a  trifle  my  senior,  and  you  know  the 
world  much  better.  I  have  lived  in  a  writing  and 
painting  set,  where  we  talked  nonsense  till  it  went  to 
our  heads,  and  we  half  believed  it.  And,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  the  presence  of  women  always  sets  me  off. 
I  am  a  humbug ;  I  do  fiot  know  Gaelic,  but  I  mean  to 
work  away  at  my  drama  for  all  that.  This  kind  of 
shock  against  the  realities  of  life  sobers  a  fellow.' 

Blake  spoke  simply,  in  an  unaffected,  manly  way. 

'  Semel  in  saninivimiis  oinnes  !'  said  Merton. 

'  Nee  Itisisse  pudet,'  said  Blake,  '  and  the  rest  of  it. 
I  know  there 's  a  parallel  in  the  Greek  Anthology, 
somewhere.     I  '11  go  and  get  my  copy.' 

He  went  into  the  observatory  (they  had  been  sitting 
on  a  garden  seat  outside),  and  Merton  thought  to 
himself: 


376  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  He  is  not  such  a  bad  fellow.  Not  many  of  your 
young  poets  know  anything  but  French.' 

Blake  seemed  to  have  some  difficulty  in  finding  his 
Anthology.  At  last  he  came  out  with  rather  a 
*  carried  '  look,  as  the  Scots  say,  rather  excited. 

'  Here  it  is,'  he  said,  and  handed  Merton  the  little 
volume,  of  a  Tauchnitz  edition,  open  at  the  right 
page.  Merton  read  the  epigram.  '  Very  neat  and 
good,'  he  said. 

'  Now,  Merton,'  said  Blake,  *  it  is  not  usual,  is  it,  for 
ministers  of  the  Anglican  sect  to  play  the  spy?' 

'  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean?  '  asked  Merton. 
'  Oh,  I  guess,  the  Rev.  Mr.  VVilHams !  Were  you  not 
told  that  his  cure  of  souls  is  in  Scotland  Yard?  I 
ought  to  have  told  you,  I  thought  our  host  would 
have  done  so.     What  was  the  holy  man  doing?  ' 

'  I  was  not  told,'  said  Blake,  '  I  suppose  Mr.  Macrae 
was  too  busy.  So  I  was  rather  surprised,  when  I 
went  into  my  room  for  my  book,  to  find  the  clergy- 
man examining  my  things  and  taking  books  out  of 
one  of  my  book  boxes.' 

'  Good  heavens  !  '  exclaimed  Merton.  '  What  did 
you  do?' 

'  I  locked  the  door  of  the  room,  and  handed  Mr. 
Williams  the  key  of  my  despatch  box.  "  I  have  a 
few  private  trifles  there,"  I  said,  "  the  key  may  save 
you  trouble."  Then  I  sat  down  and  wrote  a  note  to 
Mr.  Macrae,  and  rang  the  bell  and  asked  the  servant 
to  carry  the  note  to  his  master.  Mr.  Macrae  came, 
and  I  explained  the  situation  and  asked  him  to  be 
kind  enough  to  order  the  motor,  if  he  could  spare  it, 
or  anything  to  carry  me  to  the  nearest  inn.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    377 

'  I  shall  order  it,  Mr.  Blake,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  '  but 
it  will  be  to  remove  this  person,  whom  I  especially 
forbade  to  molest  any  of  my  guests.  I  don't  know 
how  I  forgot  to  tell  you  who  he  is,  a  detective ;  the 
others  were  told.' 

'  He  confounded  himself  in  excuses ;  it  was  horribly 
awkward.' 

'  Horribly  !  '  said  Merton. 

'  He  rated  the  man  for  visiting  his  guests'  rooms 
without  his  knowledge.  I  dare  say  the  parson  has 
turned  over  all  your  things.' 

Merton  blenched.  He  had  some  of  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  Disentanglers  with  him,  rather  private 
matter,  naturally. 

'  He  had  not  the  key  of  my  despatch  box,'  said 
Merton. 

'  He  could  open  it  with  a  quill,  I  believe,'  said  Blake. 
'  They  do  —  in  novels.' 

Merton  felt  very  uneasy.  '  What  was  the  end  of  it?  ' 
he  asked. 

'  Oh,  I  said  that  if  the  man  was  within  his  duty  the 
accident  was  only  one  of  those  which  so  singular  a 
misfortune  brings  with  it.  I  would  stay  while  Mr. 
Macrae  wanted  me.  I  handed  over  my  keys,  and  in- 
sisted that  all  my  luggage  and  drawers  and  things 
should  be  examined.  But  Mr.  Macrae  would  not 
listen  to  me,  and  forbade  the  fellow  to  enter  any  of 
the  bedrooms.' 

'  Begad,  I  '11  go  and  look  at  my  own  despatch  box,' 
said  Merton. 

'  I  shall  sit  in  the  shade,'  said  Blake. 

Merton  did   examine  his  box,  but  could   not  see 


378  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

that  any  of  the  papers  had  been  disarranged.  Still, 
as  the  receptacle  was  full  of  family  secrets  he  did  not 
feel  precisely  comfortable.  Going  out  on  the  lawn 
he  met  Mr.  Macrae,  who  took  him  into  a  retired  place 
and  told  him  what  had  occurred. 

'  I  had  given  the  man  the  strictest  orders  not  to 
invade  the  rooms  of  any  of  my  guests,'  he  said ;  '  it 
is  too  odious.' 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Williams  being  indisposed,  dined 
alone  in  his  room  that  night;  so  did  Blake,  who  was 
still  far  from  well. 

The  only  other  incident  was  that  Donald  Macdonald 
and  the  new  gillie,  Duncan  Mackay,  were  reported  to 
be  '  lying  around  in  a  frightfully  dissolute  state.' 
Donald  was  a  sober  man,  but  Mackay,  he  explained 
next  morning,  proved  to  be  his  long  lost  cousin, 
hence  the  revel.  Mackay,  separately,  stated  that  he 
had  made  Donald  intoxicated  for  the  purpose  of 
eliciting  any  guilty  secret  which  he  might  possess. 
But  whisky  had  elicited  nothing. 

On  the  whole  the  London  detectives  had  not  been 
entirely  a  success.  Mr.  Macrae  therefore  arranged  to 
send  both  of  them  back  to  Lairg,  where  they  would 
strike  the  line,  and  return  to  the  metropolis. 

Merton  had  casually  talked  of  Logan  (Lord  Fast- 
castle)  to  Mr.  Macrae  on  the  previous  evening,  and 
mentioned  that  he  was  now  likely  to  be  at  Inchna- 
dampf.  Mr.  Macrae  knew  something  of  Logan,  and 
before  he  sped  the  parting  detectives,  asked  Merton 
whether  he  thought  that  he  might  send  a  note  to 
Inchnadampf  inviting  his  friend  to  come  and  bear 
him  company?     Merton  gravely  said  that  in  such  a 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    379 

crisis  as  theirs  he  thought  that  Logan  would  be  ex- 
tremely helpful,  and  that  he  was  a  friend  of  the  Budes. 
Perhaps  he  himself  had  better  go  and  pick  up  Logan 
and  inform  him  fully  as  to  the  mysterious  events? 
As  Mr.  Gianesi  was  also  expected  from  London  on 
that  day  (Thursday)  to  examine  the  wireless  machine, 
which  had  been  silent,  Mr,  Macrae  sent  off  several 
vehicles,  as  well  as  the  motor  that  carried  the  de- 
tectives.    Merton  drove  the  tandem  himself 

Merton  found  Logan,  with  his  Spanish  bull-dog. 
Bouncer,  loafing  outside  the  hotel  door  at  Inchna- 
dampf.  He  greeted  Merton  in  a  state  of  suppressed 
glee ;  the  whole  adventure  was  much  to  the  taste  of 
the  scion  of  Kestalrig.  Merton  handed  him  Mr. 
Macrae's  letter  of  invitation. 

'  Come,  won't  I  come,  rather !  '  said  Logan. 

'  Of  course  we  must  wait  to  rest  the  horses,'  said 
Merton.  '  The  motor  has  gone  on  to  Lairg,  carrying 
two  detectives  who  have  made  a  pretty  foozle  of  it, 
and  it  will  bring  back  an  electrician.' 

'  What  for  ?  '  asked  Logan, 

*  I  must  tell  you  the  whole  story,'  said  Merton, 
'  Let  us  walk  a  little  way  —  too  many  gillies  and 
people  loafing  about  here.' 

They  walked  up  the  road  and  sat  down  by  little 
Loch  Awe,  the  lochan  on  the  way  to  Alt-na-gealgach. 
Merton  told  all  the  tale,  beginning  with  his  curious 
experiences  on  the  night  before  the  disappearance  of 
Miss  Macrae,  and  ending  with  the  dismissal  of  the 
detectives.  He  also  confided  to  Logan  the  import- 
ance of  the  matter  to  himself,  and  entreated  him  to 
be  serious. 


38o  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

Logan  listened  very  attentively. 

When  Merton  had  ended,  Logan  said,  '  Old  boy, 
you  were  the  making  of  me :  you  may  trust  me. 
Serious  it  is.  A  great  deal  of  capital  must  have  been 
put  into  this  business.' 

'  A  sprat  to  catch  a  whale,'  said  Merton.  '  You 
mean  about  nobbling  the  electric  machine?  How 
could  that  be  done?  ' 

'That  —  and  other  things.  I  don't  V.xio\^  how  the 
machine  was  nobbled,  but  it  could  not  be  done  cheap. 
Would  you  mind  telling  me  your  dreams  again  ?  ' 

Merton  repeated  the  story. 

Logan  was  silent. 

'  Do  you  see  your  way?'  asked  Merton. 

'  I  must  have  time  to  think  it  out,'  said  Logan. 
'  It  is  rather  mixed-  When  was  Bude  to  return  from 
his  cruise  to  "The  Seven  Hunters"?' 

'  Perhaps  to-night,'  said  Merton.  '  We  cannot  be 
sure.     She  is  a  very  swift  yacht,  the  Flora  Macdonald.' 

'  I  '11  think  it  all  over,  Bude  may  give  us  a  tip.' 

No  more  would  Logan  say,  beyond  asking  questions, 
which  Merton  could  not  answer,  about  the  trans- 
atlantic past  of  the  vanished  heiress. 

They  loitered  back  towards  the  hotel  and  lunched. 
The  room  was  almost  empty,  all  the  guests  of  the 
place  were  out  fishing.  Presently  the  motor  returned 
from  Lairg,  bringing  Mr.  Gianesi  and  a  large  box  of 
his  electrical  appliances.  Merton  rapidly  told  him 
all  that  he  did  not  already  know  through  Mr.  Macrae's 
telegrams.  He  was  a  reserved  man,  rather  young, 
and  beyond  thanking  Merton,  said  little,  but  pushed 
on  towards  Castle  Skrae  in  the  motor.     '  Some  other 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS    381 

motors,"  he  said,  '  had  arrived,  and  were  being 
detained  at  Lairg.'     They  came  later. 

Merton  and  Logan  followed  in  the  tandem,  Logan 
driving;  they  had  handed  to  Gianesi  a  sheaf  of  tele- 
grams for  the  millionaire.  As  to  the  objects  of 
interest  on  the  now  familiar  road,  Merton  enlightened 
Logan,  who  seemed  as  absent-minded  as  Merton  had 
been,  when  instructed  by  Dr.  MacTavish.  As  they 
approached  the  Castle,  Merton  observed,  from  a 
height,  the  Flora  Macdonald  steaming  into  the  sea 
loch. 

'  Let  us  drive  straight  down  to  the  cove  and  meet 
them,'  he  said. 

They  arrived  at  the  cove  just  as  the  boat  from  the 
yacht  touched  the  shore.  The  Budes  were  astonished 
and  delighted  to  see  their  old  friend,  Logan,  and  his 
dog,  Bouncer,  a  tawny  black  muzzled,  bow-legged 
hero,  was  admired  by  Lady  Bude. 

Merton  rapidly  explained.  'Now,  what  tidings?' 
he  asked. 

The  party  walked  aside  on  the  shore,  and  Bude 
swiftly  narrated  what  he  had  discovered. 

'  They  have  been  there,'  he  said.  '  We  drew  six  of 
the  islets  blank,  including  the  islet  of  the  lighthouse. 
The  men  there  had  seen  a  large  yacht,  two  ladies  and 
a  gentleman  from  it  had  visited  them.  They  knew  no 
more.  Desert  places,  the  other  isles  are,  full  of  birds. 
On  the  seventh  isle  we  found  some  Highland  fisher- 
men from  the  Lewis  in  a  great  state  of  excitement. 
They  had  only  landed  an  hour  before  to  pick  up 
some  fish  they  had  left  to  dry  on  the  rocks.  They 
had  no  English,  but  one  of  our  crew  had  the  Gaelic, 


382  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

and  interpreted  in  Scots.  Regular  Gaels,  they  did 
not  want  to  speak,  but  I  offered  money,  gold,  let 
them  see  it.  Then  they  took  us  to  a  cave.  Do  you 
know  Mackinnon's  cave  in  Mull,  opposite  lona?' 

'  Yes,  drive  on  ! '  said  Merton,  much  interested. 

'Well,  inside  it  was  pitched  an  empty  corrugated 
iron  house,  quite  new,  and  another,  on  the  further 
side,  outside  the  cave.' 

'  I  picked  up  this  in  the  interior  of  the  cave,'  said 
Lady  Bude. 

'  This '  was  a  golden  hair-pin  of  peculiar  make. 

'  That 's  the  kind  of  hair-pin  she  wears,'  said  Lady 
Bude. 

*  By  Jove ! '  said  Merton  and  Logan  in  one  voice. 

*  But  that  was  all,'  said  Bude.  '  There  was  no  other 
trace,  except  that  plainly  people  had  been  coming 
and  going,  and  living  there.  They  had  left  some 
empty  bottles,  and  two  uncorked  champagne  bottles. 
We  tasted  it,  it  was  excellent !  The  Lewis  men,  who 
had  not  heard  of  the  affair,  could  tell  nothing  more, 
except,  what  is  absurd,  that  they  had  lately  seen  a 
dragon  flying  far  off  over  the  sea.  A  dragon  volant, 
did  you  ever  hear  such  nonsense?  The  interpreter 
pronounced  it  "  draigon."  He  had  not  too  much 
English  himself 

'  The  Highlanders  are  so  delightfully  superstitious,' 
said  Lady  Bude. 

Logan  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  said  nothing. 

'  I  don't  think  we  should  keep  Mr.  Macrae  waiting,' 
said  Lady  Bude. 

'  If  Bude  will  take  the  reins,'  said  Merton, 'you  and 
he  can  be  at  the  Castle  in  no  time.     We  shall  walk.' 


ADVENTURE    OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    383 

'  Excuse  me  a  moment,'  said  Logan.  '  A  word  with 
you,  Bude.' 

He  took  Bude  aside,  uttered  a  few  rapid  sentences, 
and  then  helped  Lady  Bude  into  the  tandem.  Bude 
followed,  and  drove  away. 

'Is  your  secret  to  be  kept  from  me?'  asked 
Merton. 

'  Well,  old  boy,  you  never  told  me  the  mystery  of 
the  Emu's  feathers!  Secret  for  secret,  out  with  it; 
how  did  the  feathers  help  you,  if  they  did  help  you, 
to  find  out  my  uncle,  the  Marquis?  Gifgaff,  as  we 
say  in  Berwickshire.  Out  with  your  feathers !  and 
I  '11  produce  my  dragon  volant,  tail  and  all.' 

Merton  was  horrified.  The  secret  of  the  Emu's 
feathers  involved  the  father  of  Lady  Fastcastle,  of  his 
old  friend's  wife,  in  a  very  distasteful  way.  Logan, 
since  his  marriage,  had  never  shown  any  curiosity  in 
the  matter.  His  was  a  joyous  nature;  no  one  was 
less  of  a  self-tormentor. 

'  Well,  old  fellow/  said  Merton,  'keep  your  dragon, 
and  I  '11  keep  my  Emu.' 

'  I  won't  keep  him  long,  I  assure  you,'  said  Logan. 
'  Only  for  a  day  or  two,  I  dare  say ;  then  you  '11  know ; 
sooner  perhaps.  But,  for  excellent  reasons,  I  asked 
Bude  and  Lady  Bude  to  say  nothing  about  the  hallu- 
cination of  these  second-sighted  Highland  fishers.  I 
have  a  plan.  I  think  we  shall  run  in  the  kidnappers ; 
keep  your  pecker  up.     You  shall  be  in  it ! ' 

With  this  promise,  and  with  Logan's  jovial  confi- 
dence (he  kept  breaking  into  laughter  as  he  went) 
Merton  had  to  be  satisfied,  though  in  no  humour  for 
laughing. 


384  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  I  'm  working  up  to  my  denouement^  Logan  said. 
'  Tremendously  dramatic  !  You  shall  be  on  all  through ; 
I  am  keeping  the  fat  for  you,  Merton.  It  is  no  bad 
thing  for  a  young  man  to  render  the  highest  possible 
services  to  a  generous  millionaire,  especially  in  the 
circumstances.' 

'  You  're  rather  patronising,'  said  Merton,  a  little 
hurt. 

'  No,  no,'  said  Logan.  '  I  have  played  second  fiddle 
to  you  often,  do  let  me  take  command  this  time  —  or, 
at  all  events,  wait  till  you  see  my  plot  unfolded.  Then 
you  can  take  your  part,  or  leave  it  alone,  or  modify 
to  taste.     Nothing  can  be  fairer.' 

Merton  admitted  that  these  proposals  were  loyal, 
and  worthy  of  their  old  and  tried  friendship. 

*  Un  drag07i  volant,  flying  over  the  empty  sea ! ' 
said  Logan.  '  The  Highlanders  beat  the  world  for 
fantastic  visions,  and  the  Islanders  beat  the  High- 
landers. But,  look  here,  am  I  too  inquisitive?  The 
night  when  we  first  thought  of  the  Disentanglers  you 
said  there  was  —  somebody.  But  I  understood  that 
she  and  you  were  of  one  mind,  and  that  only  parents 
and  poverty  were  in  the  way.  And  now,  from  what 
you  told  me  this  morning  at  Inchnadampf,  it  seems 
that  there  is  no  understanding  between  you  and  this 
lady.  Miss  Macrae.' 

'There  is  none,'  said  Merton.  '  I  tried  to  keep  my 
feelings  to  myself —  I  'm  ashamed  to  say  that  I  doubt 
if  I  succeeded.* 

'Any  chance?'  asked  Logan,  putting  his  arm  in 
Merton's  in  the  old  schoolboy  way. 

'  I  would  rather  not  speak  about  it,'  said  Merton. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    -.8 


6°5 


'  I  had  meant  to  go  myself  on  the  Monday.  Then 
came  the  affair  of  Sunday  night,'  and  he  sighed. 

'Then  the  somebody  before  was  another  some- 
body?' 

'Yes,'  said  Merton,  turning  rather  red. 

'  Men  have  died  and  the  worms  have  eaten  them, 
but  not  for  love,'  muttered  Logan. 

IV.   The  Adventure  of  EacJiain  of  the  Hairy  Arm 

On  arriving  at  the  Castle  Logan  and  Merton  found 
poor  Mr.  Macrae  comparatively  cheerful.  Bude  and 
Lady  Bude  had  told  what  they  had  gleaned,  and  the 
millionaire,  recognising  his  daughter's  haii--pin,  had 
all  but  broken  down.  Lady  Bude  herself  had  wept 
as  he  thanked  her  for  this  first  trace,  this  endearing 
relic,  of  the  missing  girl,  and  he  warmly  welcomed 
Merton,  who  had  detected  the  probable  meaning  of 
the  enigmatic  '  Seven  Hunters.' 

'  It  is  to  you^  he  said,  '  Mr.  Merton,  that  I  owe 
the  intelligence  of  my  daughter's  life  and  probable 
comfort.' 

Lady  Bude  caught  Merton's  eye ;  one  of  hers  was 
slightly  veiled  by  her  long  lashes. 

The  telegrams  of  the  day  had  only  brought  the 
usual  stories  of  the  fruitless  examination  of  yachts, 
and  of  hopes  unfulfilled  and  clues  that  led  to  nothing. 
The  outermost  islets  were  being  searched,  and  a 
steamer  had  been  sent  to  St.  Kilda.  At  home  Mr. 
Gianesi  had  explained  to  Mr.  Macrae  that  he  and  his 
partner  were  forced,  reluctantly,  by  the  nature  of  the 
case,  to  suspect  treason  within  their  own  estabUsh- 

95 


386  THE  DISENTANGI.ERS 

ment  in  London,  a  thing  hitherto  unprecedented. 
They  had  therefore  installed  a  new  machine  in  a 
carefully  locked  chamber  at  their  place,  and  Mr, 
Gianesi  was  ready  at  once  to  set  up  a  corresponding 
recipient  engine  at  Castle  Skrae.  Mr.  Macrae  wished 
first  to  remove  the  machine  in  the  smoking-room, 
but  Blake  ventured  to  suggest  that  it  had  better  be 
left  where  it  was. 

'  The  conspirators,'  he  said,  '  have  made  one 
blunder  already,  by  mentioning  "The  Seven  Hunt- 
ers," unless,  indeed,  that  was  intentional;  they  may 
have  meant  to  lighten  our  anxiety,  without  leaving 
any  useful  clue.  They  may  make  another  mistake : 
in  any  case  it  is  as  well  to  be  in  touch  with  them.' 

At  this  moment  the  smoking-room  machine  began 
to  tick  and  emitted  a  message.  It  ran,  '  Glad  you 
visited  the  Hunters.  You  see  we  do  ourselves  very 
well,  Hope  you  drank  our  health,  we  left  some 
bottles  of  champagne  on  purpose.  No  nasty  feeling, 
only  a  matter  of  business.  Do  hurry  up  and  come 
to  terms.' 

'  Impudent  dogs  !  '  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  But  I  think 
you  are  right,  Mr.  Blake ;  we  had  better  leave  these 
communications  open.' 

Mr.  Gianesi  agreed  that  Blake  had  spoken  words 
of  wisdom.  Merton  felt  surprised  at  his  practical 
common  sense.  It  was  necessary  to  get  another  pole 
to  erect  on  the  roof  of  the  observatory,  with  another 
box  at  top  for  the  new  machine,  but  a  flagstaff  from 
the  Castle  leads  was  found  to  serve  the  purpose,  and 
the  rest  of  the  day  was  passed  in  arranging  the  instal- 
ment, the  new  machine  being  placed  in  Mr.  Merton's 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE  CANADIAN    HEIRESS    387 

own  study.  Before  dinner  was  over,  Mr.  Gianesi,  who 
worked  like  a  horse,  was  able  to  announce  that  all 
was  complete,  and  that  a  brief  message,  'Yours 
received,  all  right,'  had  passed  through  from  his  firm 
in  London. 

Soon  after  dinner  Blake  retired  to  his  room;  his 
head  was  still  suffering,  and  he  could  not  bear  smoke. 
Gianesi  and  Mr.  Macrae  were  in  the.  Castle,  Mr. 
Macrae  feverishly  reading  the  newspaper  speculations 
on  the  melancholy  affair:  leading  articles  on  Science 
and  Crime,  the  potentialities  of  both,  the  perils 
of  wealth,  and  such  other  thoughts  as  occurred  to 
active  minds  in  Fleet  Street.  Gianesi's  room  was  in 
the  observatory,  but  he  remained  with  Mr.  Macrae  in 
case  he  might  be  needed.  Merton  and  Logan  were 
alone  in  the  smoking-room,  where  Bude  left  them 
early. 

'  Now,  Merton,'  said  Logan,  '  you  are  going  to  come 
on  in  the  next  scene.     Have  you  a  revolver?' 

'  Heaven  forbid  !  *  said  Merton. 

'  Well,  I  have !  Now  this  is  what  you  are  to  do. 
We  shall  both  turn  in  about  twelve,  and  make  a  good 
deal  of  clatter  and  talk  as  we  do  so.  You  will  come 
with  me  into  my  room.  I'll  hand  you  the  revolver, 
loaded,  silently,  while  we  talk  fishing  shop  with  the 
door  open.  Then  you  will  go  rather  noisily  to  your 
room,  bang  the  door,  take  off  your  shoes,  and  slip 
out  again  —  absolutely  noiselessly  —  back  into  the 
smoking-room.  You  see  that  window  in  the  em- 
brasure here,  next  the  door,  looking  out  towards  the 
loch?  The  curtain  is  drawn  already,  you  will  go  on 
the  window-seat  and  sit  tight !     Don't  fall  asleep ! 


388  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

I  shall  give  you  my  portable  electric  lamp  for  reading 
in  the  train.  You  may  find  it  useful.  Only  don't  fall 
asleep.     When  the  row  begins  I  shall  come  on.' 

'  I  see,'  said  Merton.  '  But  look  here  !  Suppose 
you  slip  out  of  your  own  room,  locking  the  door 
quietly,  and  into  mine,  where  you  can  snore,  you 
know  —  I  snore  myself — in  case  anybody  takes  a 
fancy  to  see  whether  I  am  asleep?  Leave  your  dog 
in  your  own  room,  he  snores,  all  Spanish  bull-dogs 
do.' 

'  Yes,  that  will  serve,'  said  Logan.  '  Merton,  your 
mind  is  not  wholly  inactive.' 

They  had  some  whisky  and  soda-water,  and  carried 
out  the  manoeuvres  on  which  they  had  decided. 

Merton,  unshod,  silently  re-entered  the  smoking- 
room,  his  shoes  in  his  hand;  Logan  as  tactfully 
occupied  Merton's  room,  and  then  they  waited. 
Presently,  the  smoking-room  door  being  slightly  ajar, 
Merton  heard  Logan  snoring  very  naturally;  the 
Spanish  bull-dog  was  yet  more  sonorous.  Gianesi 
came  in,  walked  upstairs  to  his  bedroom,  and  shut 
his  door;  in  half  an  hour  he  also  was  snoring;  it 
was  a  nasal  trio. 

Merton  '  drove  the  night  along,'  like  Dr.  Johnson, 
by  repeating  Latin  and  other  verses.  He  dared  not 
turn  on  the  light  of  his  portable  electric  lamp  and 
read;  he  was  afraid  to  smoke;  he  heard  the  owls 
towhitting  and  towhooing  from  the  woods,  and  the 
clock  on  the  Castle  tower  striking  the  quarters  and 
the  hours. 

One  o'clock  passed,  two  o'clock  passed,  a  quarter 
after  two,  then  the  bell  of  the  wireless  machine  rang, 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    389 

the  machine  began  to  tick ;  Morton  sat  tight,  listen- 
ing. All  the  curtains  of  the  windows  were  drawn, 
the  room  was  almost  perfectly  dark ;  the  snorings  had 
sometimes  lulled,  sometimes  revived.  Merton  lay 
behind  the  curtains  on  the  window-seat,  facing  the 
door.  He  knew,  almost  without  the  help  of  his  ears, 
that  the  door  was  slowly,  slowly  opening.  Some- 
thing entered,  something  paused,  something  stole 
silently  towards  the  wireless  machine,  and  paused 
again.  Then  a  glow  suffused  the  further  end  of  the 
room,  a  disc  of  electric  light,  clearly  from  a  portable 
lamp.  A  draped  form,  in  deep  shadow,  was  exposed 
to  Merton's  view.  He  stole  forward  on  tiptoe  with 
noiseless  feet;  he  leaped  on  the  back  of  the  figure, 
threw  his  left  arm  round  its  neck,  caught  its  right 
wrist  in  a  grip  of  steel,  and  yelled : 

'  Mr.  Eachain  of  the  Hairy  Arm,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken !  ' 

At  the  same  moment  there  came  a  click,  the 
electric  light  was  switched  on,  Logan  bounced  on  to 
the  figure,  tore  away  a  revolver  from  the  right  hand 
of  which  Merton  held  the  wrist,  and  the  two  fell  on 
the  floor  above  a  struggling  Highland  warrior  in  the 
tartans  of  the  Macraes.  The  figure  was  thrown  on 
its  face. 

'  Got  you  now,  Mr.  Blake !  '  said  Logan,  turning 

the  head  to  the  light.     '  D n  ! '  he  added ;   '  it  is 

Gianesi !     I  thought  we  had  the  Irish  minstrel.' 

The  figure  only  snarled,  and  swore  in  Italian. 

'  First  thing,  anyhow,  to  tie  him  up,'  said  Logan, 
producing  a  serviceable  cord. 

Both  Logan  and  Merton  were  muscular  men,  and 


39©  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

presently  had  the  intruder  tightly  swathed  in  inex- 
tricable knots  and  gagged  in  a  homely  but  sufficient 
fashion. 

*  Now,  Merton,'  said  Logan,  '  this  is  a  bitter  disap- 
pointment !  From  your  dream,  or  vision,  of  Eachain 
of  the  Hairy  Arm,  it  was  clear  to  me  that  somebody, 
the  poet  for  choice,  had  heard  the  yarn  of  the  High- 
land ghost,  and  was  masquerading  in  the  kilt  for 
the  purpose  of  tampering  with  the  electric  dodge 
and  communicating  with  the  kidnappers.  Appar- 
ently I  owe  the  bard  an  apology.  You  '11  sit  on  this 
fellow's  chest  while  I  go  and  bring  Mr.  Macrae.' 

'A  message'  has  come  in  on  the  machine,'  said 
Merton. 

'  Well,  he  can  read  it;   it  is  not  our  affair.' 

Logan  went  off;  Merton  poured  out  a  glass  of 
Apollinaris  water,  added  a  little  whisky,  and  lit  a 
cigarette.  The  figure  on  the  floor  wriggled  ;  Merton 
put  the  revolver  which  the  man  had  dropped  and 
Logan's  pistol  into  a  drawer  of  the  writing-table, 
which  he  locked. 

'  I  do  detest  all  that  cheap  revolver  business,'  said 
Merton. 

The  row  had  awakened  Logan's  dog,  which  was 
howling  dolefully  in  the  neighbouring  room. 

'  Queer  situation,  eh?  '  said  Merton  to  the  prostrate 
figure. 

Hurrying  footsteps  climbed  the  stairs ;  Mr.  Macrae 
(with  a  shot-gun)  and  Logan  entered. 

Mr.  Macrae  all  but  embraced  Merton.  '  Had  I  a 
son,  I  could  have  wished  him  to  be  like  you,'  he  said; 
'but  my  poor  boy 'his   voice  broke.     Merton 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    391 

had  not  known  before  that  the  millionaire  had  lost  a 
son.  He  did  understand,  however,  that  the  judicious 
Logan  had  given  hivt  the  whole  credit  of  the  exploit, 
for  reasons  too  obvious  to  Merton. 

'  Don't  thank  nie^  he  was  saying,  when  Logan 
interrupted : 

'  Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Macrae,  you  had  better  ex- 
amine the  message  that  has  just  come  in?  ' 

Mr.  Macrae  read,  *  Glad  they  found  the  hair-pin,  it 
will  console  the  old  boy.  Do  not  quite  see  how  to 
communicate,  if  Gianesi,  who,  you  say,  has  arrived, 
removes  the  machine.' 

'  Look  here,'  cried  Merton,  '  excuse  my  offering 
advice,  but  we  ought,  I  think,  to  send  for  Donald 
Macdonald  at  once.  We  must  flash  back  a  message 
to  those  brutes,  so  they  may  think  they  are  still  in 
communication  with  the  traitor  in  our  camp.  That 
beast  on  the  floor  could  work  it,  of  course,  but  he 
would  only  warn  the^n ;  we  can't  check  him.  We 
must  use  Donald,  and  keep  them  thinking  that  they 
are  sending  news  to  the  traitor.' 

'  But,  by  Jove,'  said  Logan,  '  they  have  heard  from 
hhn,  whoever  he  is,  since  Bude  came  back,  for  they 
know  about  the  finding  of  the  hair-pin.  You,'  he  said 
to  the  wretched  captive,  '  have  you  been  at  this 
machine? ' 

The  man,  being  gagged,  only  gasped. 

'  There  's  this,  too,'  said  Merton,  '  the  senders  of 
the  last  message  clearly  think  that  Gianesi  is  against 
them.    If  Gianesi  removes  the  machine,  they  say ' 

Merton  did  not  finish  his  sentence,  he  rushed  out 
of  the    room.      Presently    he    hurried    back.     '  Mr. 


392  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

Macrae,' he  said,  'Blake's  door  is  locked.  I  can't 
waken  him,  and,  if  he  were  in  his  room,  the  noise  we 
have  made  must  have  wakened  him  already.  Logan, 
ungag  that  creature  !  ' 

Logan  removed  the  gag. 

'  Who  are  you  ? '  he  asked. 

The  captive  was  silent. 

'  Mr.  Macrae,'  said  Merton,  '  may  I  run  and  bring 
Donald  and  the  other  servants  here?  Donald  must 
work  the  machine  at  once,  and  we  must  break  in 
Blake's  door,  and,  if  he  is  off,  we  must  rouse  the 
country  after  him.' 

Mr.  Macrae  seemed  almost  dazed,  the  rapid  se- 
quence of  unusual  circumstances  being  remote  from 
his  experience.  In  spite  of  the  blaze  of  electric  light, 
the  morning  was  beginning  to  steal  into  the  room; 
the  refreshments  on  the  table  looked  oddly  dissipated, 
there  was  a  heavy  stale  smell  of  tobacco,  and  of 
whisky  from  a  bottle  that  had  been  upset  in  the 
struggle.  Mr.  Macrae  opened  a  window  and  inhaled 
the  fresh  air  from  the  Atlantic. 

This  revived  him.  '  I  '11  ring  the  alarm  bell,'  he 
said,  and,  putting  a  small  key  to  an  unnoticed  key- 
hole in  a  panel,  he  opened  a  tiny  door,  thrust  in  his 
hand,  and  pressed  a  knob.  Instantly  from  the  Castle 
tower  came  the  thunderous  knell  of  the  alarm.  '  I 
had  it  put  in  in  case  of  fire  or  burglars,'  explained 
the  millionaire,  adding  automatically,  '  every  modern 
improvement.' 

In  a  few  minutes  the  servants  and  gillies  had 
gathered,  hastily  clad  ;  they  were  met  by  Logan,  who 
briefly  bade  some  bring  hammers,  and  the  caber,  or 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    393 

pine-tree  trunk  that  is  tossed  in  Highland  sports.  It 
would  make  a  good  battering-ram.  Donald  Mac- 
donald  he  sent  at  once  to  Mr.  Macrae.  He  met  Bude 
and  Lady  Bude,  and  rapidly  explained  that  there  was 
no  danger  of  fire.  The  Countess  went  back  to  her 
rooms,  Bude  returned  with  Logan  into  the  observatory. 
Here  they  found  Donald  telegraphing  to  the  conspir- 
ators, by  the  wireless  engine,  a  message  dictated  by 
Merton: 

'  Don't  be  alarmed  about  communications.  I  have 
got  them  to  leave  our  machine  in  its  place  on  the 
chance  that  you  might  say  something  that  would  give 
you  away.  Gianesi  suspects  nothing.  Wire  as  usual, 
at  about  half-past  two  in  the  morning,  when  you  mean 
it  for  me.' 

'That  ought  to  be  good  enough,'  said  Logan  ap- 
provingly, while  the  hammers  and  the  caber,  under 
Mr.  Macrae's  directions,  were  thundering  on  the  door 
of  Blake's  room.  The  door,  which  was  very  strong, 
gave  way  at  last  with  a  crash ;  in  they  burst.  The 
room  was  empty,  a  rope  fastened  to  the  ironwork  of 
the  bedstead  showed  the  poet's  means  of  escape,  for 
a  long  rope-ladder  swung  from  the  window.  On  the 
table  lay  a  letter  directed  to 

Thomas  Merton,    Esq., 

care  of  Ronald  Macrae,  Esq., 

Castle  Skrae. 

Mr.  Macrae  took  the  letter,  bidding  Benson,  the 
butler,  search  the  room,  and  conveyed  the  epistle  to 
Merton,  who  opened  it.     It  ran  thus :  — 


394  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Dear  Merton,  —  As  a  man  of  the  world,  and  slightly 
my  senior,  you  must  have  expected  to  meet  me  in  the 
smoking-room  to-night,  or  at  least  Lord  Fastcastle  probably 
entertained  that  hope.  I  saw  that  things  were  getting  a 
little  too  warm,  and  made  other  arrangements.  It  is  a  little 
hard  on  the  poor  fellow  whom  you  have  probably  mauled, 
if  you  have  not  shot  each  other.  As  he  has  probably  in- 
formed you,  he  is  not  Mr.  Gianesi,  but  a  dismissed  employe, 
whom  we  enlisted,  and  whom  I  found  it  desirable  to  leave 
behind  me.  These  discomforts  will  occur ;  I  myself  did 
not  look  for  so  severe  an  assault  as  I  suffered  down  at  the 
cove  on  Sunday  evening.  The  others  carried  out  their  parts 
only  too  conscientiously  in  my  case.  You  will  not  easily 
find  an  opportunity  of  renewing  our  acquaintance,  as  I  slit 
and  cut  the  tyres  of  all  the  motors,  except  that  on  which  I 
am  now  retiring  from  hospitable  Castle  Skrae,  having  also 
slit  largely  the  tyres  of  the  bicycles.  Mr.  Macrae's  new 
wireless  machine  has  been  rendered  useless  by  my  unfortu- 
nate associate,  and,  as  I  have  rather  spiked  all  the  wheeled 
conveyances  (I  could  not  manage  to  scuttle  the  yacht),  you 
will  be  put  to  some  inconvenience  to  re-establish  communi- 
cations. By  that  time  my  trail  will  be  lost.  I  enclose  a 
banknote  for  lo/.,  which  pray,  if  you  would  oblige  me,  dis- 
tribute among  the  servants  at  the  Castle.  Please  thank 
Mr.  Macrae  for  all  his  hospitality.  Among  my  books  you 
may  find  something  to  interest  you.  You  may  keep  my 
manuscript  poems. 

Very  faithfully  yours, 

Gerald  Blake.' 

*  P.  S.  —  The  genuine  Gianesi  will  probably  arrive  at 
Lairg  to-morrow.  My  unfortunate  associate  (whom  I  cannot 
sufficiently  pity),  relieved  him  of  his  ingenious  machine  en 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    395 

route,  and  left  him,  heavily  drugged,  in  a  train  bound  for 
Fort  WilUam.  Or  perhaps  Gianesi  may  come  by  sea  to 
Loch  Inver.  G.  B.' 

When  Merton  had  read  this  elegant  epistle  aloud, 
Benson  entered,  bearing  electrical  apparatus  which 
had  been  found  in  the  book  boxes  abandoned  by 
Blake.  What  he  had  done  was  obvious  enough.  He 
had  merely  smuggled  in,  in  his  book  boxes,  a  machine 
which  corresponded  with  that  of  the  kidnappers,  and 
had  substituted  its  mechanism  for  that  supplied 
to  Mr.  Macrae  by  Gianesi  and  Giambresi.  This  he 
must  have  arranged  on  the  Saturday  night,  when 
Merton  saw  the  kilted  appearance  of  Eachain  of  the 
Hairy  Arm.  A  few  metallic  atoms  from  the  coherer 
on  the  floor  of  the  smoking-room  had  caught  Merton's 
eye  before  breakfast  on  Sunday  morning.  Now  it 
was  Friday  morning !  And  still  no  means  of  detect- 
ing and  capturing  the  kidnappers  had  been  discovered. 

Out  of  the  captive  nothing  could  be  extracted. 
The  room  had  been  cleared,  save  for  Mr.  Macrae, 
Logan,  and  Bude,  and  the  man  had  been  interrogated. 
He  refused  to  answer  any  questions,  and  demanded 
to  be  taken  before  a  magistrate.  Now,  where  was 
there  a  magistrate? 

Logan  lighted  the  smoking-room  fire,  thrust  the 
poker  into  it,  and  began  tying  hard  knots  in  a  length 
of  cord,  all  this  silently.  His  brows  were  knit,  his 
lips  were  set,  in  his  eye  shone  the  wild  light  of  the 
blood  of  Restalrig.  Bude  and  Mr.  Macrae  looked  on 
aghast. 

'  What  are  you  about?  '  asked  Merton. 


396  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  There  are  methods  of  extracting  information  from 
reluctant  witnesses,'  snarled  Logan. 

'  Oh,  bosh ! '  said  Merton.  '  Mr.  Macrae  cannot 
permit  you  to  revive  your  ancestral  proceedings.* 

Logan  threw  down  his  knotted  cord.  '  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Macrae,'  he  said,  '  but  if  I  had  that  dog 
in  my  house  of  Kirkburn '  he  then  went  out. 

'  Lord  Fastcastle  is  a  little  moved,'  said  Merton. 
'  He  comes  of  a  wild  stock,  but  I  never  saw  him  like 
this.' 

Mr.  Macrae  allowed  that  the  circumstances  were 
unusual. 

A  horrible  thought  occurred  to  Merton.  '  Mr. 
Macrae,'  he  exclaimed,  *  may  I  speak  to  you  privately? 
Bude,  I  dare  say,  will  be  kind  enough  to  remain  with 
that  person.' 

Mr.  Macrae  followed  Merton  into  the  billiard-room. 

'  My  dear  sir,'  said  the  pallid  Merton,  '  Logan  and 
I  have  made  a  terrible  blunder !  We  never  doubted 
that,  if  we  caught  any  one,  our  captive  would  be 
Blake.  I  do  not  deny  that  this  man  is  his  accomplice, 
but  we  have  literally  no  proof.  He  may  persist,  if 
taken  before  a  magistrate,  that  he  is  Gianesi.  He 
may  say  that,  being  in  your  employment  as  an  electri- 
cian, he  naturally  entered  the  smoking-room  when  the 
electric  bell  rang.  He  can  easily  account  for  his 
possession  of  a  revolver,  in  a  place  where  a  mysterious 
crime  has  just  been  committed.  As  to  the  Highland 
costume,  he  may  urge  that,  like  many  Southrons,  he 
had  bought  it  to  wear  on  a  Highland  tour,  and  was 
trying  it  on.  How  can  you  keep  him?  You  have  no 
longer  the  right  of  Pit  and   Gallows.     Before  what 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    397 

magistrate  can  you  take  him,  and  where  ?  The  sheriff- 
substitute  may  be  at  Golspie,  or  Tongue,  or  Dingwall, 
or  I  don't  know  where.  What  can  we  do?  What 
have  we  against  the  man?  "  Loitering  with  intent  "  ? 
And  here  Logan  and  I  have  knocked  him  down,  and 
tied  him  up,  and  Logan  wanted  to  torture  him.' 

*  Dear  Mr.  Merton,'  replied  Mr.  Macrae,  with  pater- 
nal tenderness,  '  you  are  overwrought.  You  have  not 
slept  all  night.  I  must  insist  that  you  go  to  bed,  and 
do  not  rise  till  you  are  called.  The  man  is  certainly 
guilty  of  conspiracy,  that  will  be  proved  when  the 
real  Gianesi  comes  to  hand.  If  not,  I  do  not  doubt 
that  I  can  secure  his  silence.  You  forget  the  power 
of  money.  Make  yourself  easy,  go  to  sleep ;  mean- 
while I  must  re-establish  communications.  Good- 
night, golden  slumbers ! ' 

He  wrung  Merton's  hand,  and  left  him  admiring 
the  calm  resolution  of  one  whose  conversation,  '  in 
the  mad  pride  of  intellectuality,'  he  had  recently 
despised.  The  millionaire,  Merton  felt,  was  worthy 
to  be  his  daughter's  father. 

'  The  power  of  money ! '  mused  Mr.  Macrae ;  *  what 
is  it  in  circumstances  like  mine?  Surrounded  by  all 
the  resources  of  science,  I  am  baffled  by  a  clever 
rogue  and  in  a  civilised  country  the  aid  of  the  law 
and  the  police  is  as  remote  and  inaccessible  as  in  the 
Great  Sahara  !     But  to  business  !  ' 

He  sent  for  Benson,  bade  him,  with  some  gillies, 
carry  the  prisoner  into  the  dungeon  of  the  old  castle, 
loose  his  bonds,  place  food  before  him,  and  leave  him 
in  charge  of  the  stalker.  He  informed  Bude  that 
breakfast  would  be  ready  at  eight,  and  then  retired 
to  his  study,  where  he  matured  his  plans. 


398  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  yacht  he  would  send  to  Lochinver  to  await  the 
real  Gianesi  there,  and  to  send  telegrams  descriptive 
of  Blake  in  all  directions.  Giambresi  must  be  tele- 
graphed to  again,  and  entreated  to  come  in  person, 
with  yet  another  electric  machine,  for  that  brought 
by  the  false  Gianesi  had  been,  by  the  same  envoy, 
rendered  useless.  A  mounted  man  must  be  de- 
spatched to  Lairg  to  collect  vehicles  and  transport 
there,  and  to  meet  the  real  Gianesi  if  he  came  that 
way.  Thus  Mr.  Macrae,  with  cool  patience  and  fore- 
thought, endeavoured  to  recover  his  position,  happy 
in  the  reflection  that  treachery  had  at  last  been  elimi- 
nated. He  did  not  forget  to  write  telegrams  to 
remote  sheriff-substitutes  and  procurators  fiscal. 

As  to  the  kidnappers,  he  determined  to  amuse 
them  with  protracted  negotiations  on  the  subject  of 
his  daughter's  ransom.  These  would  be  despatched, 
of  course,  by  the  wireless  engine  which  was  in  tune 
and  touch  with  their  own.  During  the  parleyings  the 
wretches  might  make  some  blunder,  and  Mr.  Macrae 
could  perhaps  think  out  some  plan  for  their  detection 
and  capture,  without  risk  to  his  daughter.  If  not,  he 
must  pay  ransom. 

Having  written  out  his  orders  and  telegrams,  Mr. 
Macrae  went  downstairs  to  visit  the  stables.  He  gave 
his  commands  to  his  servants,  and,  as  he  returned, 
he  met  Logan,  who  had  been  on  the  watch  for 
him. 

'  I  am  myself  again,  Mr.  Macrae,'  said  Logan,  smil- 
ing. '  After  all,  we  are  living  in  the  twentieth  century, 
not  the  sixteenth,  worse  luck !  And  now  can  you 
give  me  your  attention  for  a  few  minutes?  ' 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    399 

'  Willingly,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  and  they  walked 
together  to  a  point  in  the  garden  where  they  were 
secure  from  being  overheard. 

'  I  must  ask  you  to  lend  me  ahorse  to  ride  to  Lairg 
and  the  railway  at  once,'  said  Logan. 

'  Must  you  leave  us?  You  cannot,  I  fear,  catch 
the  12.50  train  south.' 

*I  shall  take  a  special  train  if  I  cannot  catch  the 
one  I  want,'  said  Logan,  adding, '  I  have  a  scheme  for 
baffling  these  miscreants  and  rescuing  Miss  Macrae, 
while  disappointing  them  of  the  monstrous  ransom 
which  they  are  certain  to  claim.  If  you  can  trust  me, 
you  will  enter  into  protracted  negotiations  with  them 
on  the  matter  through  the  wireless  machine.' 

'  That  I  had  already  determined  to  do,'  said  the 
millionaire.  '  But  may  I  inquire  what  is  your 
scheme?  ' 

'  Would  it  be  asking  too  much  to  request  you  to 
let  me  keep  it  concealed,  even  from  you?  Every- 
thing depends  on  the  most  absolute  secrecy.  You 
must  not  appear  that  you  are  concerned  —  must  not 
be  suspected.  My  plan  has  been  suggested  to  me  by 
trifling  indications  which  no  one  else  has  remarked. 
It  is  a  plan  which,  I  confess,  appears  wild,  but  what 
is  not  wild  in  this  unhappy  affair?  Science,  as  a  rule 
beneficent,  has  given  birth  to  potentialities  of  crime 
which  exceed  the  dreams  of  oriental  romance.  But 
science,  like  the  spear  of  Achilles,  can  cure  the 
wounds  which  herself  inflicts.' 

Logan  spoke  calmly,  but  eloquently,  as  every 
reader  must  observe.  He  was  no  longer  the  fierce 
Border  baron   of  an    hour  agone,  but  the   polished 


400  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

modem  gentleman.  The  millionaire  marked  the 
change. 

'  Any  further  mystery  cannot  but  be  distasteful, 
Lord  Fastcastle,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  The  truth  is,'  said  Logan,  *  that  if  my  plan  takes 
shape  important  persons  and  interests  will  be  involved. 
I  myself  will  be  involved,  and,  for  reasons  both 
public  and  private,  it  seems  to  me  to  the  last  degree 
essential  that  you  should  in  no  way  appear;  that 
you  should  be  able,  honestly,  to  profess  entire  igno- 
rance. If  I  fail,  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that 
your  position  will  be  in  no  respect  modified  by  my 
action.     If  I  succeed ' 

'  Then  you  will,  indeed,  be  my  preserver,'  said  the 
millionaire. 

'Not  I,  but  my  friend,  Mr.  Merton,'  said  Logan, 
'  who,  by  the  way,  ought  to  accompany  me.  In  Mr. 
Merton's  genius  for  success  in  adventures  entailing  a 
mystery  more  dark,  and  personal  dangers  far  greater, 
than  those  involved  by  my  scheme  (which  is  really 
quite  safe),  I  have  confidence  based  on  large  experi- 
ence. To  Merton  alone  I  owe  it  that  I  am  a  married, 
a  happy,  and,  speaking  to  any  one  but  yourself,  I 
might  say  an  affluent  man.  This  adventure  must  be 
achieved,  if  at  all,  auspice  Merton! 

'  I  also  have  much  confidence  in  him,  and  I  sin- 
cerely love  him,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  to  the  delight  of 
Logan.  He  then  paced  silently  up  and  down  in  deep 
thought.  '  You  say  that  your  scheme  involves  you 
in  no  personal  danger?'  he  asked. 

'  In  none,  or  only  in  such  as  men  encounter  daily 
in  several  professions.     Merton  and  I  like  it.' 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS   401 

'  And  you  will  not  suffer  in  character  if  you  fail?  ' 

'  Certainly  not  in  character ;  no  gentleman  of  my 
coat  ever  entered  on  enterprise  so  free  from  moral 
blame,'  said  Logan,  *  since  my  ancestor  and  namesake, 
Sir  Robert,  fell  at  the  side  of  the  good  Lord  James 
of  Douglas,  above  the  Heart  of  Bruce.' 

He  thrilled  and  changed  colour  as  he  spoke. 

'  Yet  it  would  not  do  for  vie  to  be  known  to  be  con- 
nected with  the  enterprise?  '  asked  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  Indeed  it  would  not !  Your  notorious  opulence 
would  arouse  ideas  in  the  public  mind,  ideas  false, 
indeed,  but  fatally  compromising.' 

*  I  may  not  even  subsidise  the  affair —  put  a  million 
to  Mr.  Merton's  account?' 

'  In  no  sort !  Afterwards,  after  he  succeeds,  then 
I  don't  say,  if  Merton  will  consent ;  but  that  is  highly 
improbable.     I  know  my  friend.' 

Mr.  Macrae  sighed  deeply  and  remained  pensive. 
'  Well,'  he  answered  at  last,  '  I  accept  your  very 
gallant  and  generous  proposal.' 

'  I  am  overjoyed  !  '  said  Logan.  He  had  never 
been  in  such  a  big  thing  before. 

'  I  shall  order  my  two  best  horses  to  be  saddled 
after  breakfast,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  You  will  bait  at 
Inchnadampf.' 

'  Here  is  my  address ;  this  will  always  find  me,' 
said  Logan,  writing  rapidly  on  a  leaf  of  his  note-book. 

*  You  will  wire  all  news  of  your  negotiations  with 
the  pirates  to  me,  by  the  new  wireless  machine,  when 
Giambresi  brings  it,  and  his  firm  in  town  will  tele- 
graph it  on  to  me,  at  the  address  I  gave  you,  in 
cypher.     To  save  time,  we  must  use  a  book  cypher, 

26 


402  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

we  can  settle  it  in  the  house  in  ten  minutes,'  said 
Logan,  now  entirely  in  his  element. 

They  chose  The  Botmie  Brier  Bush,  by  Mr.  Ian 
Maclaren  —  a  work  too  popular  to  excite  suspicion ; 
and  arranged  the  method  of  secret  correspondence 
with  great  rapidity.  Logan  then  rushed  up  to  Mer- 
ton's  room,  hastily  communicated  the  scheme  to  him, 
and  overcame  his  objections,  nay,  awoke  in  him,  by 
his  report  of  Mr.  Macrae's  words,  the  hopes  of  a  lover. 
They  came  down  to  breakfast,  and  arranged  that  their 
baggage  should  be  sent  after  them  as  soon  as  com- 
munications were  restored. 

Merton  contrived  to  have  a  brief  interview  with 
Lady   Bude.     Her  joyous  spirit  shone  in  her  eyes. 

'  I  do  not  know  what  Lord  Fastcastle's  plan  is,' 
she  said,  '  but  I  wish  you  good  fortune.  You  have 
won  iht  father's  heart,  and  now  I  am  about  to  be  false 
to  my  sex  '  —  she  whispered  —  '  the  daughter's  is  all 
but  your  own  !  I  can  help  you  a  little,'  she  added, 
and,  after  warmly  clasping  both  her  hands  in  his, 
Merton  hurried  to  the  front  of  the  house,  where  the 
horses  stood,  and  sprang  into  the  saddle.  No  motors, 
no  bicycles,  no  scientific  vehicles  to-day;  the  clean 
wind  piped  to  him  from  the  mountains ;  a  good  steed 
was  between  his  thighs !  Logan  mounted,  after  en- 
trusting Bouncer  to  Lady  Bude,  and  they  galloped 
eastwards. 


V.    The  Adventure  of  the  Flora  Macdonald 

'This  is  the  point  indicated,  latitude  so  and  so, 
longitude  so  and  so,'  said  Mr  Macrae.     *  But  I  do  not 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    403 

see  a  sail  or  a  funnel  on  the  western  horizon.  Noth- 
ing since  we  left  the  Fleet  behind  us,  far  to  the  East. 
Yet  it  is  the  hour.     It  is  strange  ! ' 

Mr.  Macrae  was  addressing  Bude.  They  stood  to- 
gether on  the  deck  of  the  Flora  Macdonald,  the  vast 
yacht  of  the  millionaire.  She  was  lying  to  on  a  sea 
as  glassy  and  radiant,  under  a  blazing  August  sun,  as 
the  Atlantic  can  show  in  her  mildest  moods.  On  the 
quarter-deck  of  the  yacht  were  piled  great  iron  boxes 
containing  the  millions  in  gold  with  which  the  million- 
aire had  at  last  consented  to  ransom  his  daughter. 
He  had  been  negotiating  with  her  captors  through 
the  wireless  machine,  and,  as  Logan  could  not  promise 
any  certain  release,  Mr.  Macrae  had  finally  surren- 
dered, while  informing  Logan  of  the  circumstances 
and  details  of  his  rendezvous  with  the  kidnappers. 
The  amassing  of  the  gold  had  shaken  the  exchanges 
of  two  worlds.  Banks  trembled,  rates  were  enormous, 
but  the  precious  metal  had  been  accumulated.  The 
pirates  would  not  take  Mr.  Macrae's  cheque ;  bank 
notes  they  laughed  at,  the  millions  must  be  paid  in 
gold.  Now  at  last  the  gold  was  on  the  spot  of  ocean 
indicated  by  the  kidnappers,  but  there  was  no  sign  of 
sail  or  ship,  no  promise  of  their  coming.  Men  with 
telescopes  in  the  rigging  of  the  Flora  were  on  the  out- 
look in  vain.  They  could  pick  up  one  of  the  floating 
giants  of  our  fleet,  far  off  to  the  East,  but  North, 
West  and   South  were  empty  wastes  of  water. 

'  Three  o'clock  has  come  and  gone.  I  hope  there 
has  been  no  accident,'  said  Mr.  Macrae  nervously. 
'  But  where  are  those  thieves?'  He  absently  pressed 
his  repeater,  it  tingled  out  the  half-hour. 


404  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

*  It  is  odd,'  said  Bude.  '  Hullo,  look  there,  what 's 
that  ? ' 

That  was  a  slim  spar,  which  suddenly  shot  from  the 
plain  of  ocean,  at  a  distance  of  a  hundred  yards.  On 
its  apex  a  small  black  hood  twisted  itself  this  way  and 
that  like  a  living  thing ;  so  tranquil  was  the  hour  that 
the  spar  with  its  dull  hood  was  distinctly  reflected  in 
the  mirror-like  waters  of  the  ocean. 

'  By  gad,  it  is  the  periscope  of  a  submarine  ! '  said 
Bude. 

There  could  not  be  a  doubt  of  it.  The  invention 
of  Napier  of  Merchistoun  and  of  M.  Jules  Verne,  now 
at  last  an  actual  engine  of  human  warfare,  had  been 
employed  by  the  kidnappers  of  the  daughter  of  the 
millionaire ! 

A  light  flashed  on  the  mind,  steady  and  serviceable, 
but  not  brilliantly  ingenious,  of  Mr.  Macrae.  '  This,' 
he  exclaimed  rather  superfluously,  '  accounts  for  the 
fiendish  skill  with  which  these  miscreants  took  cover 
when  pursued  by  the  Marine  PoHce.  This  explains 
the  subtle  art  with  which  they  dodged  observation. 
Doubtless  they  had  always,  somewhere,  a  well-found 
normal  yacht  containing  their  supplies.  Do  you  not 
agree  with  me,  my  lord  ? ' 

'  In  my  opinion,'  said  Bude, '  you  have  satisfactorily 
explained  what  has  so  long  puzzled  us.  But  look  !  The 
periscope,  having  reconnoitred  us,  is  sinking  again  ! ' 

It  was  true.  The  slim  spar  gracefully  descended 
to  the  abyss.  Again  ocean  smiled  with  innumerable 
laughters  (as  the  Athenian  sings),  smiled,  empty, 
azure,  effulgent !  The  Flora  Alacdonald  was  once 
more  alone  on  a  wide,  wide  sea ! 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    405 

Two  slight  jars  were  now  just  felt  by  the  owner, 
skipper,  and  crew  of  the  Flora  Macdonald.  '  What 's 
that?  '  asked  Mr.  Macrae  sharply.     '  A  reef?  ' 

'  In  my  opinion,'  said  the  captain,  '  the  beggars  in 
the  submarine  have  torpedoed  us.  Attached  torpe- 
does to  our  keel,  sir,'  he  explained,  respectfully  touch- 
ing his  cap  and  shifting  the  quid  in  his  cheek.  He 
was  a  bluff  tar  of  the  good  old  school. 

'  Merciful  heavens  ! '  exclaimed  Mr,  Macrae,  his  face 
paling.  '  What  can  this  new  outrage  mean?  Here 
on  our  deck  is  the  gold ;  if  they  explode  their  torpe- 
does the  bullion  sinks  to  join  the  exhaustless  treasures 
of  the  main  !  ' 

'  A  bit  of  bluff  and  blackmail  on  their  part  I  fancy,' 
said  Bude,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

*  No  doubt !  No  doubt !  '  said  Mr.  Macrae,  rather 
unsteadily.  '  They  would  never  be  such  fools  as  to 
blow  up  the  millions.  Still,  an  accident  might  have 
awful  results.' 

'  Look  there,  sir,  if  you  please,'  said  the  captain  of 
the  Flora  Macdonald,  '  there  's  that  spar  of  theirs  up 
again.' 

It  was  so.  The  spar,  the  periscope,  shot  up  on  the 
larboard  side  of  the  yacht.  After  it  had  reconnoitred, 
the  mirror  of  ocean  was  stirred  into  dazzling  circ- 
ling waves,  and  the  deck  of  a  submarine  slowly 
emerged.  The  deck  was  long  and  flat,  and  of  a 
much  larger  area  than  submarines  in  general  have. 
It  would  seem  to  indicate  the  presence  below  the 
water  of  a  body  or  hull  of  noble  proportions.  A 
voice  hailed  the  yacht  from  the  submarine,  though 
no  speaker  was  visible. 


4o6  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'You  have  no  consort?  '  the  voice  yelled. 

'  For  ten  years  I  have  been  a  widower,'  replied  Mr. 
Macrae,  his  voice  trembling  with  emotion. 

'  Most  sorry  to  have  unintentionally  awakened  una- 
vailing regrets,'  came  the  voice.  '  But  I  mean,  honour 
bright,  you  have  no  attendant  armed  vessel  ?  ' 

'  None,  I  promised  you  so,'  said  Mr.  Macrae ;  *  I 
am  a  man  of  my  word.  Come  on  deck  if  you  doubt 
me  and  look  for  yourself.' 

'  Not  me,  and  get  shot  by  a  rifleman,'  said  the 
voice. 

'  It  is  very  distressing  to  be  distrusted  in  this  man- 
ner,' repHed  Mr.  Macrae.  '  Captain  McClosky,'  he 
said  to  the  skipper,  '  pray  request  all  hands  to  oblige 
me  by  going  below.' 

The  captain  issued  this  order,  which  the  yacht's 
crew  rather  reluctantly  obeyed.  Their  interest  and 
curiosity  were  strongly  excited  by  a  scene  without 
precedent  in  the  experience  of  the  oldest  mariner. 

When  they  had  disappeared  Mr.  Macrae  again 
addressed  the  invisible  owner  of  the  voice.  '  All  my 
crew  are  below.  Nobody  is  on  deck  but  Captain 
McClosky,  the  Earl  of  Bude,  and  myself  We  are 
entirely  unarmed.     You  can  see  for  yourself.'  ^ 

The  owner  of  the  voice  replied :  '  You  have  no 
torpedoes? ' 

'  We  have  only  the  armament  agreed  upon  by  you 
to  protect  this  immense  mass  of  bullion  from  the 
attacks  of  the  unscrupulous,'  said  Mr.  Macrae.  '  I 
take  heaven  to  witness  that  I  am  honourably  observ- 

*  Periscope  not  necessary  with  conning  tower  out  of  water. 
Man  could  see  out  of  port, 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    407 

ing  every  article  of  our  agreement,  as  per  yours  of 
August  21.' 

'  All  right,'  answered  the  voice.  '  I  dare  say  you 
are  honest.  But  I  may  as  well  tell  you  this,  that 
while  passing  under  your  yacht  we  attached  two  slabs 
of  gun-cotton  to  her  keel.  The  knob  connected  with 
them  is  under  my  hand.  We  placed  them  where  they 
are,  not  necessarily  for  publication — explosion,  I 
mean  —  but  merely  as  a  guarantee  of  good  faith. 
You  understand?' 

'  Perfectly,'  said  Mr.  Macrae, '  though  I  regard  your 
proceeding  as  a  fresh  and  unmerited  insult.' 

'  Merely  a  precaution  usual  in  business,'  said  the 
voice.  '  And  now,'  it  went  on,  *  for  the  main  transac- 
tion. You  will  lower  your  gold  into  boats,  row  it 
across,  and  land  it  here  on  my  deck.  When  it  is  all 
there,  and  has  been  inspected  by  me,  you  will  send 
one  boat  rowed  by  two  7nen  only,  into  which  Miss 
Macrae  shall  be  placed  and  sent  back  to  you.  When 
that  has  been  done  we  shall  part,  I  hope,  on  friendly 
terms  and  with  mutual  respect.' 

'Captain  McClosky,'  said  Mr.  Macrae,  'will  you 
kindly  pipe  all  hands  on  board  to  discharge  cargo?' 

The  captain  obeyed. 

Mr.  Macrae  turned  to  Bude.  '  This  is  a  moment,* 
he  said,  *  which  tries  a  father's  heart !  Presently  I  must 
see  Emmeline,  hear  her  voice,  clasp  her  to  my  breast.' 

Bude  mutely  wrung  the  hand  of  the  millionaire,  and 
turned  away  to  conceal  his  emotion.  Seldom,  perhaps 
never,  has  a  father  purchased  back  an  only  and 
beloved  child  at  such  a  cost  as  Mr.  Macrae  was  now 
paying  without  a  murmur, 


4o8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

The  boats  of  the  Flora  Macdonald  were  lowered  and 
manned,  the  winches  slowly  swung  each  huge  box  of 
the  precious  metal  aboard  the  boats.  Mr.  Macrae 
entrusted  the  keys  of  the  gold-chests  to  his  officers. 

'  Remember,'  cried  the  voice  from  the  submarine, 
*  we  must  have  the  gold  on  board,  inspected,  and 
weighed,  before  we  return  Miss  Macrae.' 

'  Mean  to  the  last,'  whispered  the  millionaire  to  the 
earl ;  but  aloud  he  only  said, '  Very  well ;  I  regret,  for 
your  own  sake,  your  suspicious  character,  but,  in  the 
circumstances,  I  have  no  choice.' 

To  Bude  he  added :  '  This  is  terrible !  When  he 
has  secured  the  bullion  he  may  submerge  his  sub- 
marine and  go  off  without  returning  my  daughter.' 

This  was  so  manifestly  true  that  Bude  could  only 
shake  his  head  and  mutter  something  about  '  honour 
among  thieves.' 

The  crew  got  the  gold  on  board  the  boats,  and, 
after  several  journeys,  had  the  boxes  piled  on  the 
deck  of  the  submarine. 

When  they  had  placed  the  boxes  on  board  they 
again  retired,  and  one  of  the  men  of  the  submarine, 
who  seemed  to  be  in  command,  and  wore  a  mask, 
coolly  weighed  the  glittering  metal  on  the  deck, 
returning  each  package,  after  weighing  and  inspection, 
to  its  coffer.  The  process  was  long  and  tedious ;  at 
length  it  was  completed. 

Then  at  last  the  form  of  Miss  Macrae,  in  an  elegant 
and  tasteful  yachting  costume,  appeared  on  the  deck 
of  the  submarine.  The  boat's  crew  of  the  Flora 
Macdonald  (to  whom  she  was  endeared)  lifted  their 
oars  and  cheered.     The  masked  pirate  in  command 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    409 

handed  her  into  a  boat  of  the  Flora's  with  stately 
courtesy,  placing  in  her  hand  a  bouquet  of  the  rarest 
orchids.  He  then  placed  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and 
bowed  with  a  grace  remarkable  in  one  of  his  trade- 
This  man  was  no  common  desperado. 

The  crew  pulled  off,  and  at  that  moment,  to  the 
horror  of  all  who  were  on  the  Flora's  deck,  two 
sHght  jars  again  thrilled  through  her  from  stem  to 
stern. 

Mr.  Macrae  and  Bude  gazed  on  each  other  with 
ashen  faces.  What  had  occurred?  But  still  the 
boat's  crew  pulled  gallantly  towards  the  Flora,  and,  in 
a  few  moments,  Miss  Macrae  stepped  on  deck,  and 
was  in  her  father's  arms.  It  was  a  scene  over  which 
art  cannot  linger.  Self-restraint  was  thrown  to  the 
winds ;  the  father  and  child  acted  as  if  no  eyes  were 
regarding  them.  Miss  Macrae  sobbed  convulsively, 
her  sire  was  shaken  by  long-pent  emotion.  Bude  had 
averted  his  gaze,  he  looked  towards  the  submarine,  on 
the  deck  of  which  the  crew  were  busy,  beginning  to 
lower  the  bullion  into  the  interior. 

To  Bude's  extreme  and  speechless  amazement,  an- 
other periscope  arose  from  ocean  at  about  fifty 
yards  from  the  further  side  of  the  submarine  !  Bude 
spoke  no  word ;  the  father  and  daughter  were 
absorbed  in  each  other;  the  crew  had  no  eyes  but 
for  them. 

Presently,  unmarked  by  the  busy  seamen  of  the 
hostile  submarine,  the  platform  and  look-out  hood  of 
another  submarine  appeared.  The  new  boat  seemed 
to  be  pointing  directly  for  the  middle  of  the  hostile 
submarine  and  at  right  angles  to  it. 


410  THE    DISENTANGLERS 

'  Hands  up! '  pealed  a  voice  from  the  second  sub- 
marine. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Merton  ! 

At  the  well-known  sound  Miss  Macrae  tore  herself 
from  her  father's  embrace  and  hurried  below.  She 
deemed  that  a  fond  illusion  of  the  senses  had  beguiled 
her. 

Mr.  Macrae  looked  wildly  towards  the  two  sub- 
marines. 

The  masked  captain  of  the  hostile  vessel,  leaping 
up,  shook  his  fist  at  the  Flora  Macdonald  and  yelled, 
*  Damn  your  foolish  treachery,  you  money-grubbing 
hunks  !     You  have  a  consort.' 

'  I  assure  you  that  nobody  is  more  surprised  than 
myself,'  cried  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  One  minute  more  and  you,  your  ship,  and  your 
crew  will  be  sent  to  your  own  place !  '  yelled  the 
masked  captain. 

He  vanished  below,  doubtless  to  explode  the  mines 
under  the  Flora. 

Bude  crossed  himself;  Mr.  Macrae,  folding  his 
arms,  stood  calm  and  defiant  on  his  deck.  One 
sailor  (the  cook)  leaped  overboard  in  terror,  the 
others  hastily  drew  themselves  up  in  a  double  line,  to 
die  like  Britons. 

A  minute  passed,  a  minute  charged  with  terror. 
Mr.  Macrae  took  out  his  watch  to  mark  the  time. 
Another  minute  passed,  and  no  explosion. 

The  captain  of  the  pirate  vessel  reappeared  on  her 
deck.  He  cast  his  hands  desperately  abroad ;  his» 
curses,  happily,  were  unheard  by  Miss  Macrae,  who 
was  below. 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    411 

'  Hands  up  ! '  again  rang  out  the  voice  of  Merton, 
adding,  '  if  you  begin  to  submerge  your  craft,  if  she 
stirs  an  inch,  I  send  you  skyward  at  least  as  a  prehm- 
inary  measure.  My  diver  has  detached  your  mines 
from  the  keel  of  the  Flora  Macdonald  and  has  cut  the 
wires  leading  to  them ;  my  bow-tube  is  pointing 
directly  for  you,  if  I  press  the  switch  the  torpedo 
must  go  home,  and  then  heaven  have  mercy  on  your 
souls !  ' 

A  crow  of  laughter  arose  from  the  yachtsmen  of  the 
Flora  Macdonald,  who  freely  launched  terms  of  mari- 
time contempt  at  the  crew  of  the  pirate  submarine, 
with  comments  on  the  probable  future  of  the  souls  to 
which  Merton  had  alluded. 

On  his  desk  the  masked  captain  stood  silent.  '  We 
have  women  on  board  ! '  he  answered  Merton  at  last. 

'  You  may  lower  them  in  a  collapsible  boat,  if  you 
have  one,'  answered  Merton.  'But,  on  the  faintest 
suspicion  of  treachery  —  the  faintest  surmise,  mark 
you,  I  switch  on  my  torpedo.' 

'  What  are  your  terms?  '  asked  the  pirate  captain. 

'The  return  of  the  bullion,  that  is  all,'  replied 
the  voice  of  Merton.  '  I  give  you  two  minutes  to 
decide.' 

Before  a  minute  and  a  half  had  passed  the  masked 
captain  had  capitulated.     '  I  climb  down,'  he  said. 

'The  boats  of  the  Flora  will  come  for  it,'  said 
Merton ;  '  your  men  will  help  load  it  in  the  boats. 
Look  sharp,  and  be  civil,  or  I  blow  you  out  of  the 
water !  ' 

The  pirates  had  no  choice ;  rapidly,  if  sullenly,  they 
effected  the  transfer. 


412  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

When  all  was  done,  when  the  coffers  had  been 
hoisted  aboard  the  Flora  Macdonald,  Merton,  for  the 
first  time,  hailed  the  yacht. 

*  Will  you  kindly  send  a  boat  round  here  for  me, 
Mr.  Macrae,  if  you  do  not  object  to  my  joining  you 
on  the  return  voyage  ?  ' 

Mr.  Macrae  shouted  a  welcome,  the  yacht's  crew 
cheered  as  only  Britons  can.  Mr.  Macrae's  piper 
struck  up  the  march  of  the  clan,  'A'  the  wild  McCraws 
are  coming! ' 

'  If  any  of  you  scoundrels  shoot,'  cried  Merton  to 
his  enemies,  '  up  you  will  all  go.  You  shall  stay 
here,  after  we  depart,  in  front  of  that  torpedo,  just  as 
long  as  the  skipper  of  my  vessel  pleases.' 

Meanwhile  the  boat  of  the  Flora  approached  the 
friendly  submarine  ;  Merton  stepped  aboard,  and  soon 
was  on  the  deck  of  the  Flora  Macdonald. 

Mr.  Macrae  welcomed  him  with  all  the  joy  of  a 
father  re-united  to  his  daughter,  of  a  capitalist  restored 
to  his  millions. 

Bude  shook  Merton's  hand  warmly,  exclaiming, 
'  Well  played,  old  boy  !  ' 

Merton's  eyes  eagerly  searched  the  deck  for  one 
beloved  form.  Mr.  Macrae  drew  him  aside.  '  Em- 
meline  is  below,'  he  whispered ;  '  you  will  find  her  in 
the  saloon.'  Merton  looked  steadfastly  at  the  mil- 
lionaire, who  smiled  with  unmistakable  meaning. 
The  lover  hurried  down  the  companion,  while  the 
Flora,  which  had  rapidly  got  up  steam,  sped 
eastward. 

Merton  entered  the  saloon,  his  heart  beating  as  hard 
^s   when   he   had   sought    his    beloved    among   the 


ADVENTURE   OF  THE   CANADIAN   HEIRESS   413 

bracken  beneath  the  cliffs  at  Castle  Skrae.  She  rose 
at  his  entrance ;  their  eyes  met,  Merton's  dim  with  a 
supreme  doubt,  Emmeline's  frank  and  clear.  A  blush 
rose  divinely  over  the  white  rose  of  her  face,  her  hps 
curved  in  the  resistless  /Eginetan  smile,  and,  without 
a  word  spoken,  the  twain  were  in  each  other's  arms. 

Half  an  hour  later  Mr.  Macrae,  heralding  his  arrival 
with  a  sonorous  hem  !  entered  the  saloon.  Smiling, 
he  embraced  his  daughter,  who  hid  her  head  on  his 
ample  shoulder,  while  with  his  right  hand  the  father 
grasped  that  of  Merton. 

'  My  daughter  is  restored  to  me  —  and  my  son,'  said 
the  millionaire  softly. 

There  was  silence.  Mr.  Macrae  was  the  first  to 
recover  his  self-possession.  '  Sit  down,  dear,'  he  said, 
gently  disengaging  Emmeline,  '  and  tell  me  all  about 
it.  Who  were  the  wretches?  I  can  forgive  them 
now.' 

Miss  Macrae's  eyes  were  bent  on  the  carpet;  she 
seemed  reluctant  to  speak.  At  last,  in  timid  and 
faltering  accents,  she  whispered,  *  It  was  the  Van 
Huytens  boy.' 

'  Rudolph  Van  Huytens  !  I  might  have  guessed  it,' 
cried  the  millionaire.  '  His  motive  is  too  plain  !  His 
wealth  did  not  equal  mine  by  several  millions.  The 
ransom  which  he  demanded,  and  but  for  Tom  here  ' 
(he  indicated  Merton)  '  would  now  possess,  exactly 
reversed  our  relative  positions.  Carrying  on  his 
father's  ambition,  he  would,  but  for  Tom,  have  held 
the  world's  record  for  opulence.     The  villain  ! ' 

*  You  do  not  flatter  me,  father,'  said  Miss  Macrae, 


414  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  and  you  are  unjust  to  Mr.  Van  Huytens.  He  had 
another,  he  said  a  stronger,  motive.  Me !  '  she  mur- 
mured, blushing  Hke  a  red  rose,  and  adding, '  he  really 
was  rather  nice.  The  submarine  was  comfy;  the 
yacht  delightful.     His  sisters  and  his  aunt  were  very 

kind.      But '  and    the  beautiful    girl   looked    up 

archly  and   shyly  at  Merton. 

'  In  fact  if  it  had  not  been  for  Tom,'  Mr.  Macrae 
was  exclaiming,  when  Emmeline  laid  her  lily  hand  on 
his  lips,  and  again  hid  her  burning  blushes  on  his 
shoulder. 

'So  Rudolph  had  no  chance?'  asked  Mr.  Macrae 
gaily. 

'  I  used  rather  to  like  him,  long  ago  —  before ' 

murmured  Emmeline. 

A  thrill  of  happy  pride  passed  through  Merton. 
He  also,  he  remembered  of  old,  had  thought  that  he 
loved.  But  now  he  privately  registered  an  oath  that 
he  would  never  make  any  confessions  as  to  the 
buried  past  (a  course  which  the  chronicler  earnestly 
recommends  to  young  readers). 

'  Now  tell  us  all  about  your  adventures,  Emmie,' 
said  Mr.  Macrae,  sitting  down  and  taking  his 
daughter's   hand    in    his    own. 

The  narrative  may  have  been  anticipated.  After 
Blake  was  felled,  Miss  Macrae,  screaming  and  strug- 
gling, had  been  carried  to  the  boat.  The  crew  had 
rapidly  pulled  round  the  cliff,  the  submarine  had  risen, 
to  the  captive's  horrified  amazement,  from  the  deep, 
she  had  been  taken  on  board,  and,  yet  more  to  her 
surprise,  had  been  welcomed  by  the  Misses  Van 
Huytens  and  their  aunt.     The  brother  had  always 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE   CANADIAN    HEIRESS    415 

behaved  with  respect,  till,  finding  that  his  suit  was 
hopeless,  he  had  avoided  her  presence  as  much  as 
possible,  and 

'  Had  gone  for  the  dollars,'  said  Macrae. 

They  had  wandered  from  rocky  desert  isle  to  desert 
isle,  in  the  archipelago  of  the  Hebrides,  meeting  at 
night  with  a  swift  attendant  yacht.  Usually  they  had 
slept  on  shore  under  canvas ;  the  corrugated  iron 
houses  had  been  left  behind  at  '  The  Seven  Hunters,' 
with  the  champagne,  to  alleviate  the  anxiety  of  Mr. 
Macrae.  Ample  supplies  of  costume  and  other  neces- 
saries for  Miss  Macrae  had  always  been  at  hand. 

*  They  really  did  me  very  well,'  she  said,  smiling, 
'  but  I  was  miserable  about  }'ou,'  and  she  embraced  her 
father. 

'  Only  about  meF'  asked  Mr.  Macrae. 

'  I  did  not  know,  I  was  not  sure,'  said  Emmeline, 
crying  a  little,  and  laughing  rather  hysterically. 

'  You  go  and  lie  down,  my  dear,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 
'  Your  maid  is  in  your  cabin,'  and  thither  he  conducted 
the  overwrought  girl,  Merton  anxiously  following  her 
with  his  eyes. 

'  We  are  neglecting  Lord  Bude,'  said  Mr.  Macrae. 
'  Come  on  deck,  Tom,  and  tell  us  how  you  managed 
that  delightful  surprise.' 

'  Oh,  pardon  me,  sir,'  said  Merton, '  I  am  under  oath, 
I  am  solemnly  bound  to  Logan  and  others  never  to 
reveal  the  circumstances.  It  was  necessary  to  keep 
you  uninformed,  that  you  might  honourably  make 
your  arrangement  to  meet  Mr.  Van  Huytens  without 
being  aware  that  you  had  a  submarine  consort. 
Loc^an  takes  any  dishonour  on  himself,  and  he  wished 


4i6  THE  DISENTANGLERS 

to  offer  Mr.  Van  Huytens  —  as  that  is  his  name  — 
every  satisfaction,  but  I  dissuaded  him.  His  connec- 
tion with  the  affair  cannot  be  kept  too  secret.  Though 
Logan  put  me  forward,  you  really  owe  all  to  him' 

'  But  without  jy^z^,  I  should  never  have  had  his  aid/ 
said  Mr.  Macrae:  'Where  is  Lord  Fastcastle?'  he 
asked. 

*  In  the  friendly  submarine,'  said  Merton. 

*  Oh,  I  think  I  can  guess !  '  said  Mr.  Macrae,  smil- 
ing. '  I  shall  ask  no  more  questions.  Let  us  join 
Lord  Bude.' 

If  the  reader  is  curious  as  to  how  the  rescue  was 
managed,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  Logan  was  the 
cousin  and  intimate  friend  of  Admiral  Chirnside,  that 
the  Admiral  was  commanding  a  fleet  engaged  in  naval 
manoeuvres  around  the  North  coast,  that  he  had  a 
flotilla  of  submarines,  and  that  the  point  of  ocean 
where  the  pirates  met  the  F/ora  Macdonald  was  not 
far  west  of  the  Orkneys. 

On  deck  Bude  asked  Merton  how  Logan  (for  he 
knew  that  Logan  was  the  guiding  spirit)  had  guessed 
the  secret  of  the  submarine. 

'  Do  you  remember,'  said  Merton,  '  that  when  you 
came  back  from  "  The  Seven  Hunters,"  you  reported 
that  the  fishermen  had  a  silly  story  of  seeing  a  dragon 
flying  above  the  empty  sea?  ' 

'  I  remember,  un  dragon  volant^  said  Bude. 

'  And  Logan  asked  you  not  to  tell  Mr.  Macrae  ? ' 

*  Yes,  but  I  don't  understand.' 

'  A  dragon  is  the  Scotch  word  for  a  kite  —  not  the 
bird  —  a  boy's  kite.  You  did  not  know;  /  did  not 
know,  but  Mr.  Macrae  would  have  known,  being  a 


ADVENTURE   OF   THE    CANADIAN    HEIRESS    4' 7 

Scot,  and  Logan  wanted  to  keep  his  plan  dark ;  and 
the  kite  had  let  him  into  the  secret  of  the  submarine.' 

'  I  still  don't  see  how.' 

'  Why  the  submarine  must  have  been  flying  a  kite, 
with  a  pendent  wire,  to  catch  messages  from  Blake 
and  the  wireless  machine  at  Castle  Skrae.  How  else 
could  a  kite — "a  dragon,"  the  sailor  said  —  have 
been  flying  above  the  empty  sea?' 

'  Logan  is  rather  sharp,'  said  Bude. 

'  But,  Mr.  Macrae,'  asked  Merton,  '  how  about  the 
false  Gianesi  ? ' 

'  Oh,  when  Gianesi  came  of  course  we  settled 
Ms  business.  We  had  him  tight,  as  a  conspirator. 
He  had  been  met,  when  expelled  for  misdeeds  from 
Gianesi's  and  Giambresi's,  by  a  beautiful  young  man, 
to  whom  he  sold  himself.  He  believed  the  beautiful 
young  man  to  be  the  devil,  but,  of  course,  it  was  our 
friend  Blake.  He,  in  turn,  must  have  been  purchased 
by  Van  Huytens  while  he  was  lecturing  in  America 
as  a  poet-Fenian.  In  fact,  he  really  had  a  singular 
genius  for  electric  engineering;  he  had  done  very 
well  at  some  German  university.  But  he  was  a  fellow 
of  no  principle !  We  are  well  quit  of  a  rogue.  I 
turned  his  unlucky  victim,  the  false  Gianesi,  loose, 
with  money  enough  for  life  to  keep  him  honest  if  he 
chooses.  His  pension  stops  if  ever  a  word  of  the 
method  of  rescue  comes  out.  The  same  with  my 
crew.  They  shall  all  be  rich  men,  for  their  station, 
////  the  tale  is  whispered  and  reaches  my  ears.  In 
that  case  —  all  pensions  stop.  I  think  we  can  trust 
the  crew  of  the  friendly  submarine  to  keep  their  own 

counsel.' 

27 


4i8  THE   DISENTANGLERS 

'  Certainly !  '  said  Merton.  '  Wealth  has  its  uses 
after  all,'  he  thought  in  his  heart. 

Merton  and  Logan  gave  a  farewell  dinner  in  autumn 
to  the  Disentanglers  —  to  such  of  them  as  were  still 
unmarried.  In  her  napkin  each  lady  of  the  Society 
found  a  cheque  on  Coutts  for  25,000/.  signed  with 
the  magic  name  Ronald  Macrae. 

The  millionaire  had  insisted  on  being  allowed  to 
perform  this  act  of  munificence,  the  salvage  for  the 
recovered  millions,  he  said. 

Miss  Martin,  after  dinner,  carried  Mr.  Macrae's 
health  in  a  toast.  In  a  humorous  speech  she  an- 
nounced her  own  approaching  nuptials,  and  intimated 
that  she  had  the  permission  of  the  other  ladies  present 
to  make  the  same  general  confession  for  all  of  them. 

'  Like  every  novel  of  my  own,'  said  Miss  Martin, 
smiling,  '  this  enterprise  of  the  Disentanglers  has  a 
HAPPY  ENDING.' 


THE   END 


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